


Dark Souls: The Princess and I

by cojapar



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Complicated - Freeform, Dark, Dark Souls - Freeform, Freeform, Mystery, Romance, Strong MC, Strong Main Character, Video Game, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cojapar/pseuds/cojapar
Summary: A man ignorant of his past and identity treks through the land of Lordran knowing only that he must gather the four Great Souls, defeat Lord Gwyn, and reignite the flame. It is all he has known since time immeasurable, performing his duty mindlessly and without thought, never questioning or diverting.





	1. Prologue

**_In the Age of Ancients..._  
** _The world was unformed, shrouded by fog_  
_A land of grey crags, archtrees, and everlasting dragons_  
_But then there was Fire_  
_And with Fire came Disparity. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course... Light and Dark._  
_Then, from the Dark, They came_  
_And found the Souls of Lords within the flame._  
_Nito, the first of the dead_  
_The Witch of Izalith, and her daughters of chaos_  
_Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights_  
_And the furtive pygmy, so easily forgotten_  
_With the Strength of Lords, they challenged the dragons._  
_Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales_  
_The witches weaved great firestorms_  
_Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease_  
_And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own, and the dragons were no more_  
_Thus began the Age of Fire_  
_But soon, the flames will fade, and only Dark will remain_  
_Even now, there are only embers, and man sees not light, but only endless nights_  
_And amongst the living are seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign.  
_

 

* * *

 

How does one know what they believe is reality and not an illusion or some sort of trickery or false life? How can one discern truth and fact definitively without bias or taint, manipulation or insinuation? When an individual has the ability or chance to change truth do they? How can one be sure of anything, what is it that gives one the emotion of clarity and understanding, sure of that which they have learned over time is in actuality factual truth and not a rumor of epic proportions? Who chooses what is told to those that did not witness the past? Who possesses the right to write history? Who spreads truth to the ignorant?  
Truth never existed.  
History an intricate web of lies.  
Fact what the ignorant blindly believe.  
Reality encompassing only what the small mind of man can comprehend and see.  
Since language and writing became known there have only been lies fed to the stupid and gullible of glorious fables and legends spun by fools with silver tongues and twisted fingers. It is with this knowledge I cannot tell you the truth, my child, and it is with this knowledge I warn you, those whom assure you they know, that they are sure, true, you must know there is no such thing. In the life you hold in this false world of deception and illusion remember there are none who know in honest the difference between right or wrong, fact or fantastic, and those who pretend to hold such ascendant and everlasting truths are liars of the worst kind. The only capable soul in deciding truth is easily found, however, yet a scarce few believe or respect it out of fear and insecurity; even fewer have ever found this giver of truth. The discovery and council of this individual and its real, unforgiving truth has either brought great strength or great sadness to those that heed its words. Can you guess who knows real truth?  
It is you.  
In the life you hold in this false world of deception and illusion the only one who knows in honest the difference between right or wrong, fact or fantastic, is yourself. You hold the key and none other for it is your life to live and your choice to believe whatever lie you wish, whatever history you choose, whatever legend of fantastical stupidity catches your fancy. Allowing yourself to fall in line, giving in to that which others order you are right and wrong, fact or fantastic, will be the end of your true life. Once you bend to another or many, out of fear or loneliness, it will no longer be your life alone but theirs as well, controlling and molding you into a shape more to their liking. Yet this may be your truth.  
Though if you never give in, never yield, holding to the truths only you believe, in time these truths will either raise you above the rest or hurl you into the darkness of despair and loneliness. So, Child, I ask you...  
What is your truth?

 

* * *

 

Lordran is the land of the ancient lords, once home to Gwyn, the lord of Sunlight; Nito, the first of the Dead; the Witch of Izaleth; Seath the scaleless; and their many brethren and faithful servants. A land of great power and holy zeal, unbroken tradition, unparallelled wealth and knowledge, Lordran is the crown of the world during this grand Age of Fire. The gods rule everlasting, humanity flourishing beneath such omnipotent and wise beings of perfect divinity.  
Yet, when the light is strongest, darkness returns.  
Now, after so many countless years, the fires die out. What once were great cities and kingdoms reigned by our immortal gods have become consumed by ash and death. Mankind falls to the undead curse, those afflicted eventually turning to mindless monsters of icy flesh and insane bloodlust. The gods fade, vanishing without a trace, claimed by the Dark. Humanity shrinks to a small few. Age of Fire is nearly at its end, overwhelming Darkness consumes the world and Lordran is lost. The Age of Dark looms, rising from the ashes of Fire.  
But there is hope.  
It is stated in ancient legend, that a single undead will make pilgrimage to Lordran and give life once again to the World’s Flame. This single heroic undead is fated to give his own life, Link the Flame, banish the undead curse, and restore the world. He is our savior, our Chosen Undead.  
I am Chosen Undead...


	2. The Woman

The forest was dark, damp, and gloomy. A frozen wind cut through the protective shell of metal between myself and the world, chilled rainwater seeping through the cracks in my armor, soaking into the leather and cotton beneath. Though the cold did little to my already frozen, lifeless flesh; the water chafed. Thick mud pulled on my boots as I marched between the trunks of lush trees, leaves blocking the sky from view. Water droplets fell from above, pitter pattering on my soaked hood. I'd grown to hate the rain wandering through this damned forest for the better part of a day. Sick of seeing nothing but trees all the time, squelching through miles of mud, and tripping on a root every two feet.

Clad in ornately engraved black plate armor and matching shield, black hood and cloth hiding most of my face, I strode through the waterlogged forest. Upon my shoulder rested a gigantic greatsword forged from blue steel. Decorated in intricate metalworking, a large blue gem set within its silver hilt, the weapon shimmered faintly in the gloom. Once wielded by a great hero who had fallen to an evil power known only as "the abyss" the greatsword itself possessed powerful divine strength; Artorias' Greatsword. It had served me well in my journeys, simplistic style of power over speed and timing over frequency its calling card. The weapon had no tricks of its own, relying on its master for proper cunning and tactics.

I traveled Lordran to kill a man called Lord Gwyn and replace him in his duty. Required to ring the Bells of Awakening, acquire a sacred artifact called the "Lordvessel," and fill it with the souls of Lords, I would enter the Kiln and battle Gwyn to Link the Flame in order to restore the Age of Fire. I cannot remember who gave me this duty, nor can I remember why completing it infatuated me so. Perhaps I did this because no other calling came to me? I understood this was my purpose but felt no attachment to it having accomplished this task many times before but for some odd reason always found myself right back at the start. What point was there in doing a job never truly done? When would I finally be released from the endless cycle? I shook my head to clear such maddening thoughts from my mind, better not to dwell too much on such things. I would do my duty, Fate demanded it.

Do not think, act.

Light flashed, trees groaning, a fantastic explosion of sound rattling the world and I. Lightning, I could smell burnt wood as I walked. It must have struck directly ahead of me. Dark amusement flashed through my dull mind as I imagined something so unlucky as a lightning strike sending me to the Bonfires. With a melancholy sigh I looked up through the forest canopy. Death really was a joke to me. I was immortal. No matter how many times I died I would always appear next to the Bonfires dotting Lordran, enemies once defeated returned and souls once carried lost. Perhaps one day something might change? Perhaps I might discover a new Bonfire, a new path to somewhere I'd dubiously missed over the last few centuries? It had been centuries hadn't it? I couldn't recall when my duty started, Lordran and its cycle my only real memories.

It didn't matter.

"Hello?" I froze in alarm, not daring to move, "Hello?" I leapt behind a tree, back pressed against it, and stared out into the downpour. I listened for the slightest change in the forest, tuning out the drumming rain and growling thunder. "Hello?" I brought my shield up and stressed to merge with the tree, sword ready, "Can anyone hear me?" The voice sounded female, coming from beyond the other side. I slipped around the tree trunk squinting through the falling rain, straining to spot the speaker, "Please! Someone!" She sounded afraid, confused, lost. I smothered the urge to reply. There was no margin for error. I had not found a Bonfire in days. Abruptly a woman stumbled out from behind a tree trunk.

My breath caught.

Long flowing red hair drifting through the air like ocean surf and glowing bright orange in the gloom, an odd pair of pointed ears poked up from beneath. Skin lightly tanned, body frail and vulnerable yet retaining a slight edge of potential. She was no warrior, but nor was this woman entirely defenseless. A number of bruises dotted her skin, perhaps from the landing? The looked old though, a punishment beating? Was she a servant? Regardless I was stunned, gazing out from beneath my dripping cowl and gobbling the spectacle up with extreme prejudice. She was grossly incandescent, utterly perfect, shining with a beautiful light that warmed my cold and clammy limbs and lifted the heavy weight of my soaked equipment. A great blazing sun blossomed in my chest, the rain's influence evaporating along with my dour and suspicious mood. I was fixated upon her, never before having seen a creature like her. Of course there was Gwynevere, but she was a goddess, and gigantic. A relationship with the Princess of Sunlight was nothing more than a fool's delusion. Shaking my head roughly I regained what little logic and sense I could, forcing my mind to sharpen. I re-attached my shield to the harness on my back and sheathed the oversized great sword.

"Hello?! Anyone!?" I could only see her profile, woman turned away. I yearned to call out to her, that she might turn to me. The words scorch my throat, burning to blast out into existence, and I clawed at the tree bark chewing my lip. She stumbled away clamboring over branches and roots, splashing through puddles, wading through the mud and rain. I followed blindly, something in my chest twitching every time she fell or cried out, feet unable to turn away or halt no matter what I told them. Her fiery red hair began to dim, mud and rubbish encroaching upon it, yet a brilliant halo shone around her no matter how dirty and marred her appearance became. "Hello?" I blinked. A pair of green eyes had locked with my own, piercing straight into my consciousness, enthralling me. Her lips were thin, cheeks soft, brow high, jaw solid, lashes long. Face gorgeous and breathtaking, body alluring and seductive, yet her eyes drew me in the most. They twinkled and flashed, sparkling in the gloomy rain with green fanfare and dazzling color. A hand reached weakly out to me, caked in mud and dripping with water. Instinctively, I reached my own out and gingerly took the frail thing, holding it with the care a mother would a freshly born child. The hand seemed so small, so weak, as if just being touched threatened to shatter it. The black gauntlet encasing my hand seemed so out of place holding such a beautiful little thing so softly, so lovingly. An instrument of war, it appeared a cruel, evil, possessing five pointed talons filed down to points in the visage of something akin to a claw. I had never expected to see the gauntlet so carefully enclosed around something so beautiful, "Who are you?" The woman cooed.

A door slammed on my euphoria.

Before me was a dirty woman caked in mud with the eyes of one lost in an unfamiliar land begging for the help and assistance of another. She looked a long-since dulled diamond pried from a pile of rot and junk, a bauble one would find discarded on the roadside. She knelt before me, slightly hunched, the very definition of innocence and frailty; a lost child who had just found a potential escape from the horrors it had experienced. I was that escape. A hulking man of black plate armor, face obscured by a cowl and cloth mask, exotic handle of Artorias' Greatsword peeking over my shoulder, sapphire glowing ever so softly that neither she nor I noticed. I looked down at her with the authority of a god, a flick of my wrist could end her story. "Help me." Those words fell mutely upon my ears, like snowflakes on skin, barely noticeable but holding a strange wonder, "Please." Liquid streamed down her cheeks, "I don't know where I am." My mind offered no council, conscience silent, watching to see what I might do, "I don't know what's going on." She inched closer, "Who are you?" A light of hope began to shimmer in those bright green eyes of jade, "Are you him? Are you the one I'm to meet?" Thunder rumbled in the distance, posing a question to me. I cocked my head in thought, entertaining the idea. Then, like a rose blooming for the first time or the sun breaking through the dark clouds of an early morning, a thought came to me: I had never met this woman. Never, in all the cycles and years that had come and gone, had I seen someone like her. Again thunder grumbled, question repeating. I opened my mouth and, far, far away in a place long forgotten and badly neglected something stirred.

Something Dark.

"No." I croaked, vocal cords shaking off the dust that had gathered upon them. I hadn't spoken a word in what felt like years.

"Then," She trailed off a moment, looking around vainly, "Who are you?" I shrugged indifferently. Long had I wondered who I was, whether I had a name and how I'd come to live in this forsaken land. Yet, as most thinking I did ended, I forgot the reason I'd started. I remembered nothing about myself or if there ever was a me. Identity, name, what was I but Chosen Undead? My mind turned to more important matters:

This woman. While she did not seem to be a threat I was doubtful she could offer me anything in return. Yet I had to do something for her. What remained of my humanity pined for her, wishing to offer help and guidance, reward or no. Shaking off her hand, her expression turning fearful, I stepped under a large tree and sat on one of its beefy roots. Beckoning the woman over I opened my bottomless box, withdrawing an old set of knight armor I'd used quite extensively long ago as well as a large rag,

"Here." I offered the rag and apparel. She frowned,

"Why would I need these?" She pointed at the armor, "That isn't clothing just rusty and dented plate armor." I nodded down at her nakedness and she squealed. Snatching the rag and armor she struggled to cover herself, "Why didn't you say anything?!" She swiped a hand at me, I leaning back to dodge the slap, "And turn around you ass!" I cocked an eyebrow and replied,

"No." She gasped in shock,

"How can you call yourself a gentleman?!"

"I don't." I said bluntly,

"Well you're a knight aren't you?!" She snapped, "Why don't you act like one?!" I looked down at my engraved, extravagant, black armor as well as my exotic sword and shield. Her observation held some truth though that would kill her in this world,

"Never assume." I mumbled, "Or you die." Jade eyes widening the woman stepped back clutching the armor and rag tightly,

"Stay back." She grabbed a stick pointing it at me, "Or else!" Her voice quivered, body shaking. Trembling from the cold weather and her own fear, hair draped about in wet and muddy hunks that clung to her smooth skin, eyes darting about, irises glinting in the dreary light, pupils waxing and waning as they adjusted for maximum clarity; she was the strangest thing I'd ever seen. Or the strangest thing I could remember seeing. So vibrant and alive, expression constantly changing, I wondered if she was an illusion or hallucination?

"Who are you?" I asked, head swaying side-to-side as I studied her. Her eyes narrowed,

"I," She raised her chin and looked down her nose at me, "Am Princess Orlai of Aliva, first in line for the Dawn Throne." I stared. "You must have been born beneath a rock and educated by insects!" The woman scoffed, "To not even bow in the presence of royalty!" I smiled behind the cloth, cheek muscles growing sore from the near-unique action. She was amusing,

"How did you come here?" I coughed, jerking a thumb over my shoulder towards the scorched wood and water-filled crater. She eyed me suspiciously for a moment before stepping behind a bush,

"I was sent here." She grunted from the other side, "For a very important reason." I hadn't asked for a reason but played along,

"Naked?" I grunted,

"No!" She snapped, "I had the finest combat dress and my mother's own enchanting staff as well as four faithful knights to accompany me on my quest. I came here for someone called 'Chosen Undead.'" I twitched, resisting the urge to draw steel, "I am to retrieve him and end the false world he inherits." She made several strained sounds, arms occasionally reaching above the bush as she struggled into her new armor, "I cast a spell to come here, however it appears someone did not acquire the correct catalyst I needed." She dropped something with a loud thud and dismissive scoff, "This smells and it's stained." I ignored her, turning to my own thoughts as she dressed in her private bush. What were my own thoughts at the moment?

This woman was strange, and what of her companions and equipment? Was she a magician? Why my sudden overwhelming interest in her? I would pause at times on my tireless journey, rarely, but never for more than several minutes. I'd been with this woman for what felt like much longer. Most though importantly what did she want with me, Chosen Undead? And what did she mean "false world?"

"Hello?" Orlai's face filled my vision. I jumped to my feet, grabbing at the handle of my sword, "Whoa wait, calm down!" She screamed, falling over and raising a hand defensively, "You stopped talking so I wondered what was wrong!" I grunted, stepping back and releasing my grip on the greatsword. She'd managed to equip the entire set of armor, to my surprise, except for the chest plate. The leather hung in some places and armor plates slipped about more than they should, entire set obviously several sizes too big for her, but it was better than nothing. Orlai's expression changed gradually, eyes fixed on the sword handle gripped by my claw, anxiety twisting her lips, "Now what?" A good question. I released the sword,

"Can you fight?" I asked, throat becoming sore, and she laughed at me. I could not detect an ounce of humor in it. Why was she laughing then?

"Of course I can!" She stretched out a gauntlet, "Hand me a sword and I'll show you my skill." I shrugged, reaching into the bottomless box in my pack, and picked out a simple broadsword. My first weapon, fully improved with as much titanite as allowed. A fine blade, unassuming and plain appearance betraying the feats it had accomplished. Many had died to that hallowed weapon. She snatched it away, swung it about several times, and viciously stabbed an innocent tree trunk. I winced at her handling of the broadsword, amateurish at best and hardly respecting the sword. She jerked it free and held its point to the forest canopy, eying her reflection on the flat of the blade. After a moment she nodded to herself, "It'll do." I shrugged, handing her its sheath which she buckled around her waist, "So," She looked up at me, "What's your name then?" I hesitated,

"Dunno." She frowned,

"You don't know?" I nodded. She shook her head in disbelief, "How could you forget your own name?" I shrugged, "Then what am I supposed to call you?" I shrugged again. She put a hand to her forehead, "You must be the greatest of fools to have forgotten your own name." A pang of anger stabbed at me and I growled threateningly, startling her somewhat. I had helped her, provided her with a means of survival. There was nothing else I needed to do. Turning on my heel I began marching through the trees resuming my trek, "Where are you going?!" She called hurrying after me,

"New Londo." I grunted still marching,

"Where?"

"Bad place."

She balked at that "What do you mean?"

I glanced at her smugly, "Undead, ghosts, water, awful smell."

"Why are you going there then?" She asked nervously. Best to keep her ignorant otherwise invite unwanted attention. You could never trust someone asking so many questions,

"No idea." I coughed, throat stinging now,

"What?" She sputtered, "What do you mean 'no idea?'"

"Gut feeling."

"A gut feeling?!" I nodded stiffly, "You're walking through this miserable weather and disgusting forest to - " She tripped on a root, stumbling, and I watched with a quiet smile as she face-planted into an impressively large mud puddle. I looked down, nodding respectfully to the branch and puddle to which she had fallen victim.

Admittedly I felt a twinge of guilt and reached down to carefully extract her from the mess she'd dubiously found her way into. She spat profusely with a few choice words, mud not the only filth spilling past her lips, expression that of pure, blind rage. Amusement hidden behind my mask I handed down a rag as she sputtered and spat. Orlai snatched the rag, fingers combing through her hair no longer flaming and bright. Painstakingly working to remove the mud and grime from hair she had cleared only moments before Orlai picked and pulled mud, dabbing with the rag. Her swearing and complaints died down, expression deflating from rage to dejected defeat. She stopped, chin dipping down and lower lip trembling, arms falling to her sides and shoulders slouching.

"Just mud." I sighed putting a gauntlet on her shoulder. She shrugged me off and jerked away, hair whipping about, splashing me with water. I ground my teeth, why was I bothering with this woman? I had a job to do. Taking a step away, her voice stopped me,

"It's not the mud!" She pouted crossing her arms and stomping ahead. I watched the so-called Princess pick her way through the roots much more carefully now and walk around the other side of a tree two steps in front of me. I stood there a moment. When she did not call out or return I shrugged, readying to resume my march. Her head poked around the trunk, "Aren't you coming?" She grumbled through bared teeth. I blinked. Was I? Why would she join me or I her? Why hadn't I just killed her or even bothered helping? I could've easily just left her and that would be that. Normally I was not so easily distracted, such things killed in Lordran. I had fought half-naked women before and slaughtered them without a second thought for their levels of attraction. They were enemies, hindrances, so they died. What was different about this Orlai? I could not answer myself. She took a slow step out from the tree and grasped my gauntlet, "Well?" She asked apprehensively, jade eyes gazing into my own, "You're coming right?" Her hand was warm, seeping through the metal of my gauntlet into the dead flesh within. Why was her hand warm?

"Yes." The voice was my own and a force pushed me on.

Voices whispered.


	3. The Man

"Are we going to be there soon?" I glanced past my cowl at Orlai and shrugged. What point was there in answering? She was just going to ask again later and my throat hurt. Orlai bristled, "You know," She carefully sidestepped a dangerously large root, "I'm starting to wonder if it'd kill you to talk to me with more than a shrug, nod, or a few words!" I ignored her. Nothing had changed in the last hour or so, rain fading to a light drizzle. Despite her noisy chatter, the Princess fascinated me. How could someone talk for so long about absolutely nothing? For that matter how could she talk at all this much and with such overflowing emotion? Those that I'd met were awkward at best, mysterious and withdrawn, showing little emotion in their "conversations" with me. Orlai, however, was overflowing with such things, always changing from one to another and back in seconds. Her vitality was astounding.

I froze, Orlai thudding against my back. Something felt wrong. The air was different. Orlai took a breath but I slashed a hand at her, using the other to press a finger to my lips through the black cloth. She looked about frantically and nodded. The forest was silent aside from a soft wind that blew through the trees and rustled the leaves showering us with rainwater. I ignored the falling water but Orlia squeaked. Irritated by her inability to be silent I turned away, pulling the cloth over my nose down enough to freely sniff the damp air. Something smelled sweet, a far cry from the wet, earthy stench of the forest. Was it her? I leaned down to Orlai, grasping her shoulder to hold her still, and went to sniff her to be sure. A fist collided with the side of my head, jerking it to the side. Slowly, deliberately, I turned back and made eye-contact.

She glared.

I stared flatly.

She raised the fist again.

I maintained the stare.

Her fist drew back.

I stepped away.

She raised her chin haughtily.

I glared out into the forest. Why hadn't I killed or abandoned her if she was going to be such a nuisance? Yet again the mental dance began in my mind on leaving her, and yet again something told me I needed to keep her. Sighing I pinched the bridge of my nose, what was wrong with me? The ground shuddered.

Great sword whipping from its sheath and shield held at the ready, my head whipped back and forth scrutinizing the dim forest. Orlai screeched, falling against a tree, broadsword flying from her sheathe. She held it with shaking hands, pointing the weapon this way and that before sliding down the trunk and cowering between its roots. I ground my teeth, annoyed by her sniveling. I listened, forest ambience whispering. A deep thud resonated through the wet and muddy ground as if a tree had fallen. Straining my ears I held my breath, concentrating. The forest shuddered, mud rippling. Low beats, steady in their pattern. Footsteps? It was big. I turned to Orlai, still huddled against her tree. She looked up at my approach shrinking away fearfully,

"Get up." I ordered, her jade eyes wide and watching me warily. What did she see when looking into my eyes? I could only see a terrified girl at the mercy of an ominous, dark figure reflected in her own. Innocent, thrown into a fate she had not asked for or expected, the girl was desperate. Orlai shook her head, eyes squeezing shut.

"No!" She cried, broadsword pointed at me, "You've got no manners," Twinkling tears crawled down her cheeks, "You treat me like I'm a burden, you won't speak to me like a human being, and now you're just pulling your weapons out willy nilly and just telling me to follow you blindly!" Her sword shook violently in her hands. I opened my mouth, "I don't know where I am or who you are," She said before I could say anything, "I hate this awful and terrifying place! I just wanna go home!" She glared at me, eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears, "Not stuck here in this forest with YOU!" Her words rang hollowly in my ears. She was nothing but dead weight, keeping myself alive was already difficult enough without her. It was unacceptable to take on such a worthless companion. I had no debts to her but she owed me a great deal, not that I cared. There was nothing she had I wanted.

Without a word I marched off into the forest. I could feel her eyes on my back and hear her incessant sobbing. A needle prodded at something in my silent chest, each footstep that brought me further away driving it deeper and deeper. This was a good thing. She was slowing me down, dead weight, a useless companion. If she died under my protection the blame would be on me. If I left, having provided her with ample means to protect herself, I was not at fault. I stopped, looking straight ahead.

Was that the truth?

I didn't answer myself, focusing on putting one foot after another. Act dammit, stop thinking. Act.

* * *

Orlai watched the man march away through the trees, good riddance. She was the most powerful magician in the country of Alvia, aside from her mother, and could handle herself. She didn't need that no-good grump who acted like he knew everything, laughing boisterously behind that mask of his at every misfortune she suffered. She clenched the hilt of the broadsword he'd provided, drawing it out from its sheath and pointing it to the sky. She had been given private training from the Knight-Captain Dio himself, a sword master who'd slain dragons and defeated hundreds of thousands of men in combat. She his finest student he said, almost a master herself. Orlai paused, looking around at the forest.

Did the ground just shake?

She would bravely stand against any beast or monster that dared show itself to her with magic and swordplay. Everyone said Orlai could do anything if she set her mind to it. She repeated this to herself several times, as if for rehearsal for when the man in black returned. He would return after all, no man could leave a princess alone. She was strong, beautiful, well-gifted in the arcane arts, suitors appeared at the palace every day to court her. The ground shook and trees swayed, water falling from the leaves above. She quickly lifted the broadsword up from her chest, pointing it at the trees around her,

"Stay back!" She called hoarsely, "I'm armed and dangerous!" Her voice cracked, "Don't come near me!" The shaking halted. She swallowed, forest growing darker. Shadows danced between the trunks, forest murmuring, unseen eyes followed her. Orlai's jaw clenched. He was probably doing this to play a prank on her, to teach her he knew better, she would not be toyed with! Orlai was no cowering princess who did nothing but wait for a prince in shining armor to save her. Gritting her teeth, Orlai straightened her back and raised the sword above her head.

She was a brave warrior, and she would prove it!

With a fierce war cry Orlai charged through the trees, screaming for blood and glory, adrenaline pumping, grand cheers of a thousand knights spurred her bravery. A deadly snarl paved itself across her face, sweat of battle crawling across her cheeks, wind howling past and blowing her hair out in a storm of fiery red. She was a knight true, a heroine who could fell any beast! Her name echoed through legends and myth, a great and unstoppable warrior princess even gods worshipped! Breaking from the trees she dashed out into a grassy clearing.

Panting heavily Orlai bent over, hands resting on her knees. How could anyone run in armor? The stuff weighed a ton. She wiped sweat from her brow and sighed in satisfaction. A good exercise, she mused slinging the broadsword over her shoulder. She surprised even herself! And that man in black thought she needed him, preposterous! Orlai looked up at the cloudy sky as a small opening parted in the clouds giving way to blue sky. She was going to make her own future for once, as a real hero of legend. Raising her sword to reflect the sky Orlai, the Hero Princess and Arch Mage of Alvia, turned on her heel to take her own destiny.

Orlai froze, looking up.

A gigantic man in knightly armor several times her own height loomed overhead, his armor seeming to be, inexplicably, made of polished stone. Moss dusted his equipment, a massive great shield and sword gripped in either of his gauntlets. He raised his sword and Orlai screamed, falling back expecting it to slice her in two, but a bright light bloomed from the weapon as he held it aloft. Several tons of weight crashed down over Orlai, dragging her down to her knees. Already burdened by her bulky armor this additional weight held her still, unable to move. The massive knight's sword rose again, this time cutting down. Orlai could not speak, voice unable to be heard over the terror that gripped her. She fumbled for the hilt of her broadsword as the greatsword dropped at a slow but deliberate speed. While this knight did not appear at all quick, she by no means doubted a single strike would kill her. Finding her sword's hilt, she yanked it from the sheath, body suddenly moving on its own. Orlai dived out of the way, stone greatsword thudding into the wet ground behind her with a ground shaking squelch. She stared dumbly at the knight as its head turned to her. Stiffly raising her sword, she swung upwards at its neck, making solid contact. Sparks flew and the sword jarred out of her grip. She cried out as a sudden electric pain shot through her hands and arms, and fell to the ground. The stone knight turned, sword already swinging. So this was how it ended? Orlai curled into a ball, tears streaming down her cheeks. Why had she even tried? She wasn't a princess, just some apprentice sent on a fool's errand for a hero that didn't even exist. There was no Alvia, no throne, no knights, just a girl who had been banished to die, fooling herself into thinking she mattered.

Orlai looked up as death fell, when her voice came to her,

"CHOSEN UNDEAD!" She screamed, cursing the myth of the so-called hero. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself to death, its embrace better than whatever this world had to offer her. Orlai winced at the loud crack of rock on metal. Strange, she wondered, it hadn't hurt. Afraid to open her eyes, worried she'd see the bottom half of her body missing or some other grisly sight, she didn't move,

"Princess." Orlai's eyes snapped open to the cowl of a knight in extravagant black armor, an exotic blue-steel greatsword slung over his shoulder, black shield holding a gigantic stone greatsword at bay,

"You're late." She hiccupped,

"Sorry." He grunted heaving the knight back. The man advanced slowly. Orlai blinked, suddenly noticing a bright border of golden runes circling the clearing. The intense weight was still present. How in the hell was he moving? The stone knight swung, the man's black shield taking the full brunt of the blow without breaking step. No obvious sign of fear or hesitation, he strode through the slow storm of blows the stone knight battered him with, black shield deflecting each and every hit. Suddenly attaching the shield to his back, the man rolled under one of the knight's strikes and, with both hands, sliced at one of the knight's legs. To Orlai's amazement, the stone knight staggered. The man in black pressed the advantage, bringing his blue-steel sword up to slice at the knight's crotch, then its other leg. The knight fell to its knees, producing a mini earthquake, and the man in black drove his sword into its chest. Without a single word or flourish he heaved, cutting upwards and out, carving through the knight's chest. Groaning, the stone knight fell back, dropping its weapons, and collapsed. Shoulders slouching with a quiet sigh, the man in black turned to her.

Orlai jumped up, "That was amazing!" She shouted, pointing him, "You are amazing!" Orlai danced around the clearing, "First you were like, 'Princess, sorry I'm late!'" She mocked his monotone voice, hunching as if she held a great weight upon one arm while protecting a fallen comrade, "Then you were like," She stepped forward dramatically, walking across the clearing as she heaved aside god-like blows, "Then," She jumped and rolled, piercing and imaginary enemy with her unseen blade and roared, yanking it out in a long upwards arc, "Why didn't you tell me you could do that?!" She pressed, running over to the man, "I didn't realize you were so strong!" He watched her silently from under that black cowl as she smiled brightly bouncing on the balls of her feet, but said nothing. Her energy and excitement began to wane as he stood there without speaking a word. After a full minute of him staring at her blankly she gave up, hands flying into in the air, "What's your problem?!" Orlai demanded, "I know you talk, or is that just for insulting me?!" His head tilted to one side, "Dammit will you say something?!" Silence. Tearing at her hair Orlai screamed in exasperation and turned her back to him.

He was insane, completely and utterly. No normal human being would act like him, and who in the hell forgot their own name?! He seemed like a child, terrifying and extremely powerful sure, but a child! She jumped, footsteps squelching through the grassy clearing. An unnervingly large shadow loomed above her. Orlai tensed, fear nipping at her mind as a black gauntlet fell upon her shoulder. She looked back at the man in black. A pair of empty black eyes stared at her. She looked deep within the abyss of those eyes and felt something, hidden from view, that unhinged her. Orlai saw a soulless husk, a man that should have died long ago, a walking corpse, and shuddered. What could do this to someone? Was he even human? What little of his skin she could see was pure white but the hood and mask hid most of his face. What was beneath that cloth and armor? Her hand rose, reaching toward his hood. His eyes suddenly widened, "NO!" He cried pushing her over. Orlai stumbled back with a surprised yelp,

"What was that for?!" She yelled, "I just wanted to see your stupid face!" She tromped over to him, "What is your-" Her anger vanished.

He covered his face with cruel black gauntlets, leaning heavily on a tree and moaning pitifully, "No…no…no…."

She bit her lip, "It's okay," She whispered soothingly and placed her hands on the unforgiving shell of his black armor, "It's alright I'm sorry, it's alri-" A gauntlet closed around one of her hands, hollow eyes looking back at her from under the hood as he turned to her. The metal was cold, so cold, as if his body was ice. She felt the urge to break away.

He gently pushed her back, releasing her hand, "Sorry," He whispered, "You cannot see."

A stab of emotion pierced Orlai and she smiled sadly, "It's ok, don't worry. It's probably better you don't tell me any of your secrets." She stepped back, "I'm terrible at keeping secrets you know, back in the village it got so bad nobody spoke to me because..." Orlai trailed off, laughing humorlessly. Looking away she stopped on remains of the golem. Was this man human?

"I do."

Orlai looked back at the man in surprise, "What?" She asked.

The man coughed, almost like he was clearing his throat, "I like to talk to you."

Orlai stared at him, "You what?" The man glared flatly and crossed his arms, "Well excuse me for being shocked that you can put that many words together!" She shot back, head shaking in disbelief. She couldn't believe this man, he was a hopeless mess of insanity, "You're so strange you know that?" She looked up at him with an honest smile. He didn't answer, head tilting to one side.


	4. Nightmare

_Colors and lights darted across her vision. A great white shining city empty of people, high upon a mountain that became dead catacombs deep below the earth filled with walking corpses. A single flame burned in a furious maelstrom that filled the world with vibrant life and bright light. Thousands of years and hundreds of thousands of faces burned away as the dark encroached upon the dying flame, its bearer withering beneath the infinite passing of time as it weathered him until only ashes and a single cinder remained;_ Chosen Undead.

Find the Chosen Undead, _whispered the rickety voice of an old man,_ Stop the Darkness from consuming our lands. _A dark figure entered her view cradling a small candle flame in cruelly shaped black claws. Soft light from the candle lit a hollow face, its dead black eyes piercing through Orlai. The figure vanished, replaced by a decaying corpse that went up in a burst of flame, ashes wafting through the air, falling gently upon dunes of ash around her. Trees and flowers sprouted along with towering cities, laughing people, and vibrant forests; a lush land._ Find The Chosen Undead.

* * *

"Princess," Growled a harsh voice. Orlai's eyes shot open, cold sweat beading on her forehead, body stiff and clammy she looked up at the man clad in black steel kneeling over her. It was still night, pitch-black she could barely make out the man in the darkness. His dead eyes watched without emotion, claw-like gauntlet carefully cradling one of her hands in it's frozen talons. A flare of light flickered through his black eyes at her awakening. Orlai groaned, head split in two by a fantastic headache.

"What, what is it?" She grumbled struggling to sit up.

The man quickly reached out and put a gauntlet on her back, pulling her up tenderly, "Nightmare," He coughed, voice straining, "Screaming." Orlai pressed her head against the cold, lifeless metal of his chest. The chill soothed her headache, senses returning. Her throat and lips were dry and cracked, she needed water. A terrible taste had worked its way into her mouth and her stomach gurgled, pleading for sustenance. Her body felt like lead, sore, cold, lead.

"Thank you," She grunted after a moment, "But I'm fine." She pushed against him lightly and he withdrew himself, black gaze still fixed on her. Orlai stood, stretching as a chorus of cracks sang out from her body. They were still in the forest when night had fallen, the man still marching, but Orlai could not keep up with his stamina, insisting they rest. He'd looked confused but complied, sitting down on the spot to stand watch. Now she was awake but didn't feel much of the sleep she'd just had.

"How long was I out?" She massaged her temples. He shrugged indifferently, "Alright," She sighed, "Thanks for the honest answer." Orlai looked around, trying to squint through the darkness, and listened to the soft sounds of the forest, "Why didn't you light a fire?" She asked, turning to the man. He shook his head.

"Dangerous." A creature screamed in the distance, echoing off the trees and sending a chill down her spine. He raised a meaningful eyebrow at her beneath his hood.

"Really," She snapped, "I thought that was just a lonely widdle puppy looking for its mommy." Orlai rolled her shoulders, motioning for the man to stand, "Well?" She asked, "I'm up and ready to go, aren't we gonna start marching?" Those black eyes studied her, had she imagined that light?

"Yes." He agreed standing up, "Stay close." And, turning to march, murmured, "Be silent." Orlai tensed, following after begrudgingly. He turned back to her after a few seconds, "Please be silent." He corrected, head bowing to her respectfully.

"Now that," Orlai said approvingly, "Is more like it."

The two of them marched steadily through the remainder of the night, Orlai watching the trees slowly pass, fear scratching at her kept at bay by the presence of the man in black. Things called out to each other in the forest, some sounding human some not, shapes and forms that darted between the trees she'd only seen in nightmares.

The man had said she was having a nightmare, so he woke her, but what about this place wasn't a nightmare? A forest filled with beasts and creatures that seemed as if they'd crawled out from hell itself to haunt the mortal plane with their existence. Was she going to wake up from this too, back in her tiny quarters that were little more than a broom closet in the castle and then have to face that nightmare as well? She couldn't decide whether or not she wanted to wake up from this, unsure which of the two was worse. She peered at the man, exotic great sword slung across his back and black shield inscribed with characters foreign to her, much like his extravagant armor. Then there was his mysterious hooded face, why was he so desperate to wear that black cloth and hood? What was he hiding? He'd said he didn't know his own name and at first Orlai found that stupid and foolish but now she questioned if he was affected by something more than foolishness?

Orlai soldiered on through the night, blindly following the man in black steel.

* * *

The trek through the forest finished without a hitch. Orlai stayed quiet for most of it, out of fear I assumed, but she performed admirably.

Not long after morning we walked through a large gate once locked, that now stood open, its doors carved with the scene of a forest and the head of a wolf. I'd procured the key from a blacksmith when making the journey out, as I had done many times before. This was not the first time I had been through the forest, I practically lived in it for weeks at a time. I still did not understand why I suddenly remembered this detail, and paid it no consequence. Nothing about it affected what I needed to accomplish. A short distance from the carved gates burned a single bonfire, hidden behind a crumbling stone wall next to a cliff. Its flame was massive, reaching above the black weapon's warped hilt several feet. I'd had plenty of time to properly kindle the majority of the bonfires.

"What is that?" Orlai asked, staring at the flames. The astral fire glowed luminescent in her bright green eyes of jade.

"A Bonfire."

She looked at me in surprise,"You answered me!" I ignored her, seating myself before the astral flames, soothing calm washing over me as a small power prickled in my body a moment before dissipating. I reached into my pack and pulled out a bottle filled with liquid sunlight, "What," Orlai whispered, fixated on the bottle, "Is that?" I glanced at her, popping the cork out and sweeping it through the fire, leaving a ripple in its wake that quickly filled in.

"Estus." I answered with a cough, raising the flask meaningfully. I thumbed the cork back in, returning it to my pack.

"What does it do?" Orlai asked, leaning toward the Bonfire and reaching a hand out. I caught her hand with my gauntlet and she jumped, glaring at me, "Why not? You touched it." I hesitated trying to find the words.

"Not," I paused, "Not safe." She glared.

"But you just put your hand in it and stuck it in some bottle. What, are you gonna drink it?" My head swayed side to side uneasily.

"Yes."

She threw her hands up, "Then what's so bad about me touching it?!" She shouted. I raised a gauntlet, rolling it about as if cranking the gears of my mind, pointing between us.

"Different." I coughed vocal cords unused to this level of conversation. Orlai sucked her teeth.

"That's a solid argument coming from you." She said shaking her head, "But sure, I guess I'll just dumbly do what you say pretending like I actually matter to you." She stood, patting her dented armor off, "Let me know when you actually want to include me in your adventure rather than just follow you around as comic relief." She turned on her heel, walking past the stone wall and giving it a frustrated kick. I mused at the limp she suddenly developed. A dusty groan croaked in my throat and I rested my chin on a gauntlet, watching her growl and rant to herself just outside the wall, pacing back and forth favoring one of her legs.

I wished I could speak to her with my thoughts and feelings rather than verbally. It was so hard to convey meanings through words and sentences and put them together in a coherent order. I turned, gazing into the slowly twisting flames of the Bonfire as a particularly loud burst of chatter from Orlai echoed off the wall. She needed to learn we weren't alone in Lordran. If she wasn't careful the entire world was going to come down on us screaming for blood. Despite her faults and alien nature I was growing accustomed to Orlai but not in a tolerable manner, like a parent does a child, I liked her. It seemed wrong considering how difficult she'd been at first, and still was, yet now… She was useless, unable to fight or keep up with me, the Princess did nothing but slow me down. So why did I feel the need to protect her, now more than before? I growled to myself, searching for an answer to clear the confusion that plagued me and coughed, throat sore and vocals aching.

Silence answered me.


	5. Little Gem

"Wow." I turned to Orlai, enjoying her expression of shock and awe. A massive valley stretched before us, endless path twisting and turning beneath us to the left and sizable tower across the valley, top reaching just above the valley's cusp.

Once a giant warrior guarded the lower entrance to that tower wielding a massive great shield and cudgel with ease. He fought with the grace and skill of a master despite the bulky armor he wore, his name Havel. He'd fallen before me long ago, as he had many times, though sometimes it took an extra attempt. It was fortunate Orlai had appeared so late in my journey, Gravelord Nito and the Four Kings my only remaining foes. However, I suppose it could be argued they were also the most difficult. I worried for Orlai's life. I had saved her before but how long would my vigil protect her? For that matter how long would she allow me to?

As we walked Orlai looked over the edge at the wispy clouds beneath passing through the valley, "Are we going all the way down there?" She moaned painfully, "This'll take forever." I pointed at a much smaller path that ran to our right, curving out of view, "Oh much safer," She blurted happily, "All we need is a little wind, maybe a storm, and we've got ourselves a good-old-fashioned mountain excursion." I grunted a warning, "Oh hush, don't be so superstitious." I raised an eyebrow, leaning towards her meaningfully, "Look, just because this place is batshit insane doesn't mean that, just because I made a sarcastic joke about the weather, it's going to happen." I grunted wordlessly. She waved a hand, "Oh shush," heading down the path to the right, "You're such a Negative Nancy." She giggled. I growled threateningly, "Yes, I know Nancy is a girl's name," She scoffed, "Can't you take a joke? It's depressing enough around here." I didn't answer, not expecting to get anywhere with her if I continued.

We marched down the path, Orlai leading the way and kicking rocks over the edge, watching the cloud cover grow closer and closer as we descended into the valley. We walked in relative silence, not much to really say, I watching Orlai as we went. Her hair had regained the same fiery orange as when I'd first seen her thanks to a clean stream of water and an alchemical concoction she'd ground up from nearby plants and flowers. I'd watched the entire process and found it oddly intriguing.

First she found a large flat rock roughly the size of her chest, and then a smaller one about the size of her fist. After that I followed her around as she told me about the different plants, flowers and their properties. What they could cure, what would kill me, apparently the vegetation of this world was nearly identical to her own. After gathering the necessary ingredients, she placed them on the flat rock, grinding the ingredients until she was satisfied. After that she told me to leave, and I complied grudgingly. When Orlai called me back she was glowing.

Her hair was a blaze of furious color, flowing behind her strange pointed ears in flaming waves of orange, skin shining even in the gloomy overcast light of the sun I had to squint to look at her. Even her armor and the leather beneath it gleamed, freshly cleaned and smelling of crushed pine needles. I gazed at her in wonder, convinced I had been blessed with the company of an angel who had fallen from the heavens, a priceless gem that dropped by happenstance into my lap. Of course this gem was fickle and hardly acted the part of a simple accessory. This was a firebrand of a woman that constantly surprised and intrigued me with her infinite expressions, musical voice, rippling hair, enigmatic jade green eyes, and boundless personality that refused to be characterized with a single word. She was a beautiful masterpiece that constantly changed its form and color, a rainbow of emotion that dazzled and befuddled me with its vast spectrum.

I wondered what it was that encouraged her to stay with me in this quest, why had she so dubiously accepted my gruff attitude and followed me for miles of marching the last three day and nights? The most likely answers were circumstance or desperation but despite myself I hoped for some other reason. I yearned to ask but hadn't the words. If I did there would be a high possibility of her taking offense, as she usually did if I spoke to her first, and I did not want to lose her company. It was nice to have a voice that chattered to you day and night that was not your own. At least, I had gone so long without one so it was difficult to tire of her incessant talking. However, at present she was silent. Why was she silent? Had I done something wrong? Had I not responded properly? I thought back to our conversation just before walking down the path several minutes ago, ending in a stone wall. I wasn't surprised, not expecting to understand the cause for her silence. Another puzzling event was my thoughts, growing clearer as my time with Orlai increased. I enjoyed the conversations and deliberations I had with myself because of it. It was nice to have something to think about.

I looked past Orlai and down at the lake at the end of the valley recalling the Hydra that made its home there. It would be fun to show her such a beast, but only from a safe distance and avoiding any unnecessary risk. We'd already had a number of run-ins with the bush-like plant monsters in the area but no accidents of yet. Orlai, in fact, had managed to survive each encounter without so much as a scratch. How long would such luck hold out?

I sighed, trying to think of something that Orlai would enjoy, and looked up at empty path. Blinking several times, I turned around and found more empty path. Orlai was gone. The clash of steel rang out.

* * *

Orlai looked back at the man in black, his eyes hidden beneath the black hood, and kicked at another rock sending it hurtling off the edge and through the clouds to a doom she was unable to witness. She wondered who he was, his skill as a warrior impressive, brave, strong willed, lacking in social skills horribly. His memory loss seemed so laughable. She could hardly believe amnesia was a legitimate illness, only seeing in it terrible romance stories she'd read in the library back at the castle which was basically just something for the princesses to use. They had such fun trying to figure out who had written what, and the one time Orlai made the mistake of deciding to put her story up everyone laughed and ripped it apart. Who needed them, she thought, boy love was hot anyway. Orlai glanced back again at the man in black, pondering his sexual preferences or if he had any at all. She decided against asking, he would laugh at her or stare, silently judging with those eyes of his. Worse, he might get ideas. She blushed. He was an exceptionally curious man, almost childish. The way he followed her around when she'd made the simple shampoo and body wash concoction felt like she was a master teaching an apprentice. Orlai wondered if that curiosity melded over into his sex life? For that matter what did he look like under that armor? If she saw him she'd be able to pick him out easily, she knew what everyone liked back at the castle, she even made a game out of it. As a servant she was privy to all the nobles' sex-lives. Servants knew much more about the nobility than most people thought. Anyway, the man was an all-around mystery to her. Orlai shook her head with a scoff, why did she want to know anyway? Not like she wanted to see him getting plowed from behind.

Realizing what she was doing Orlai snarled, viciously kicking another rock off the edge. She was only tagging along with him for safety, not like she had a chance if she decided to wander off alone. She was irritated by how he treated her though, ordering her to stay back and out of fights whenever they occurred. He wouldn't let her get in a single hit or even take one of those bush men on, spouting his usual nonsense about "danger" and the like. Of course it was dangerous but how would she learn otherwise?!

Orlai stopped, what brought her to this damned place anyway? She couldn't remember the reason she had been sent to this place. Putting a hand to her forehead Orlai thought hard but only white fuzz surfaced from her memories. She could remember the castle, the town, her evil parents, those terrible townspeople and nobles, but why not what had dropped her in this land in the first place? She snorted to herself, it didn't matter. She was going to find a way out at some point soon anyway, no point in bothering with anything else.

Orlai turned around, "Hey, how lo-" She froze. A giant black knight two or three times the size of the man in black towered above her in the same extravagant black armor. A long black halberd slung over his shoulder, black inscribed shield in his other hand, the knight regarded her. Instead of a hood and mask a beautifully sculpted tall horned helmet sat upon his head. She stood there a moment looking up and after a few seconds raised a hand, "Uh," She paused, "Hi there." The knight did not react, staring at her. Orlai narrowed her eyes, "What are y-" She side-stepped a sudden stab from the knight and cried out in surprise, "The hell?!" She drew her sword, knight advancing. With a spin he dragged his halberd across the ground and swept it up at her. Orlai dived, halberd cutting through the air inches behind her. She risked a glance up the path for the man in black but couldn't spot him. Had something happened? She scolded herself for daydreaming, glaring at the knight as it advanced. Fear tickled her but her heart remained strong, this time the man in black would not be needed. That could not stop her body from trembling, however. The black knight jabbed at her and she rolled through its wide legs, cutting at one of its ankles. She felt the armor give and scrambled to her feet with a triumphant grin.

The grin wavered however when she saw a steady stream of ash trickling out from the greave she had penetrated, the knight showing no signs of injury in its posture and movements, "Ok," She mumbled, "That's not normal." The knight nimbly spun the halberd over its head when suddenly a lightning bolt lanced into him and knocked him tumbling off the path with a loud bang of thunder, vanishing into the clouds. Orlai looked up at the man in black, a strange white wrapping of cloth in his left gauntlet. His hollow eyes glared at her angrily,

"Stupid." He snarled.

"Really?!" She snarled back, brandishing the broadsword, "Well maybe if you gave me a chance I could actually learn something for once!" She jabbed a finger at him, "You can't protect me forever and you know it, and even if you could I refuse to be treated as a pretty little gem you keep safely tucked away just to smile at from time to time!" The man in black recoiled, "And don't you start crying like a baby, because I'm just gonna to laugh it up you damn man!" His eyes wavered, brows rising before he sighed heavily, arms falling to his sides,

"Yes." He mumbled,

"Damn right." Orlai growled, nodding her head, "Now I'd say it's about time I get to training." Orlai continued down the path, a black gauntlet grabbing her shoulder, "Get off!" She yelled, throwing him off, "I'm going to kill some shit!" He shook his head, pointing back up the path.

He coughed a phrase, "Better for you." Orlai narrowed her eyes,

"Why should I follow you?"

He sighed, "Please?" Shoulders slouched, eyes pleading,

"Fine." Orlai grumbled stomping past him, "Now let's hop to it!"

* * *

I supposed she had a point. I wouldn't be able to keep her safe forever, and she hadn't done terribly against that knight. I was not able to stand by and watch, Black Knights certainly not what an amateur should first duel to learn how to fight. Orlai stormed back up the path and I hurried after so as not to be left behind.


	6. Andre

"By my beard who's this!?" Boomed the giant man I knew as Andre of Astora, beard a scraggly mess of white, hair in a similar state and bound together by a rough cord in a ponytail to keep it from impeding his work, "Why, I haven't seen a woman as beautiful as ye in all my days!" He looked Orlai up and down excitedly. She to a step towards me, eyeing him suspiciously. Andre fell upon his small bench heavily, the poor thing creaking loudly as it took his full weight, "Can't say I'm surprised she be a wee nervous of old Andre!" He roared, laughing heartily and holding a hand to his chest, "Of all the men to hide behind she chooses ye!" The building shook with the strength of his cheer, "This be a match made by the gods themselves! A fantastic pair ha, ha! Good on ye lad!" He slapped his knee grinning broadly through his beard, "I can bet ye had a twist in the sheets then eh? She looks quite the fierce one eh?" He cowed, bouncing an eyebrow at me.

I winced as Orlai gasped, "You what?!" She shouted storming up to him. She jabbed a finger in his face, cutting his laughter short, "You tryin' to say something?!" Andre's eyes crossed as he looked at the finger, head twitching away from it. I had been worried she'd be shaking her sword at him rather than the finger, though he acted as if her finger was just as bad.

Regret painted Andre's face, "Milady," he coughed apologetically. "Forgive me abruptness t'was but a joke, surely you-" Her finger inched closer as she leaned in.

Andre pressed against the wall, eyes fixed on that finger like it was a venomous snake. "A joke eh?" She growled, glancing at his setup, "Well from my perspective I'm betting you and that anvil have had some interesting nights alone together." Orlai shot.

Andre glanced at me pleadingly and I shook my head, perfectly fine with watching. My cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling, "No Milady, ye just so beautiful I assumed-"

"Assumed what?" She cut in, jade eyes flashing.

Andre's jaw worked frantically, "Well I assumed nothin' a course," He explained quickly, watching the finger carefully, "I, Andre of Astora, do not condone such actions, though I mayhap developed a relatively rough disposition due to the work I partake in and cannot rightly say me finer skills have-" The finger closed in for the kill, "I simply wish to convey I humbly regret me speech and tone!" He yelped. Orlai's eyes narrowed, finger's descent halting. Andre raised his hands defensively, "I don't want no trouble, just nice to see someone else for a change, and one who holds a conversation." He nodded to me, "This one likes to keep to himself." He said respectfully, eyes asking me for forgiveness and I shook my head, waving a hand dismissively to assure him I understood. With a satisfied nod Orlai dropped the finger, Andre watching it closely as it fell.

She turned to me and Andre sighed quiet relief. He cracked a grin with an approving nod to me over her shoulder. "You know him?" She snapped. I bobbed my head several times, "Really? Care to explain?"

"Good friend." I grunted. Andre's bushy brow rose into his mop of white hair,

"Gods above," He whispered, "Ye spoke!" He said shaking his head, "I can scarcely believe ye speaks!" Orlai scoffed at his reaction,

"Don't get too excited, that anvil of yours has more things to say that this blank slate." She mused gesturing to Andre's gigantic black slab of metal, "You should be honored, that's the first real sentence he's spat out in a while." Andre barked a laugh, eyes fixed on Orlai,

"I believe ye! He's never done ol' Andre wrong but he be the cheeriest bloke that's walked through me little smithy here, aside from ye Milady, but never once has he said a word to ol' Andre!" Andre shook his head, "Ye musta used some sort a magic on him, M'lady, to loose them dusty ol' lips a his." He grinned stroking his beard, eyes flashing mischievously, "Or perhaps tis' more simple than magic?" I growled a warning at Andre, "And ye look loathe to admit it!" He chortled, a thoughtful look crossed Orlai's face as she regarded me. I wasn't smiling anymore.

"You think I did something to him?" Orlai asked quizzically.

"Indeed Milady, he be quite taken with ye!" My fists clenched as I glared at Andre, reaching for my pouch threateningly. This only encouraged them.

"What do you mean 'taken with me?'" Orlai asked playfully with one eye on me.

Andre motioned for her to lean in close but still spoke as if he intended for me to hear him. "One could say it's an attraction on ye emotional level perhaps?" He chuckled lowly with a wink at her. Orlai stared at me for a minute before shaking her head laughing,

"Andre," She chortled, "Quit bullshitting, he hardly says a word to me, much less giving me an explanation on this crazy quest he's been talking about." Andre's brows bounced in jovial thought.

"Perhaps from innocence?" His howling laughter shook the smithy again. Emotions bubbled hot in my chest. "Imagine, blushing like an innocent maiden by the cause of a woman! What a jest!"

Orlai joined in, both laughing hysterically. "Innocence?! A stone like him, how?!" She guffawed between breaths.

"Because it met a diamond!" Andre roared and they both fell to the floor cackling,

I'd had enough. "She is." Their merriment cut off like a hot knife through butter. Andre and Orlai stared at me.

"Come again lad?" Andre asked with a small smile, cocking an eyebrow and leaning forward expectantly. Orlai watched quietly, jade green eyes fixed upon me. I raised a gauntlet, coughing loudly into it,

Head tilted forward so it hid my eyes I repeated, "She is a diamond." Andre whistled.

"Well then, I must revoke me earlier statements." He nodded approvingly, eyes glinting, "It warms me heart to see a man who knows when he's been blessed." Andre glanced down at Orlai, her eyes glittering, "What say ye, Milady, to this man's advances?"

I stepped back in shock. "Advances?!" I cried, clutching my throat from the sudden outburst and coughing painfully. I shook my head vigorously, cutting a hand through the air violently.

"Seems a mite too reticent does he not Milady?" Andre asked, nudging Orlai with an elbow, "How does the stone's diamond respond?" Orlai did not seem to hear him, staring at me blankly, "What's this?" Andre thundered, "A love believed unrequited is instead found to be mutual?" He glanced at me meaningfully.

Orlai fired a glare at Andre, "Shut your mouth wrinkles!" She snapped, stomping up the stairs and growling.

Andre's eyes slid slyly over to me with a wide grin, "To think ye was such a prince charmin eh?" He nodded up the stairs, "Ye better be quick, else lose a prime chance." I rolled my eyes, walking up the stairs, "Be back soon eh? I'd like ta meet the yung'uns!" His booming laughter chased me up the stairs and out of the basement of the bell tower he called his smithy, the patterned bang of hammer on steel resuming.

Orlai leaned against the brick wall next to the Bonfire, arms crossed and peering into the flames. I stood there a minute awkwardly and glanced around, head twisting left-to-right, hands clawing at my sides for something to say, and mouth opening and closing soundlessly. She looked up at me, "What, is that the mating dance around here? You a bird?" I blinked, assuming she was insulting me.

"I…" I raised my hands as she watched me, struggling to add something else.

"You what?" She asked coldly, shining green eyes fixed on me, "What?" A lump formed in my throat, still sore from shouting earlier. No thoughts surfaced, words caught in my stomach. My mind locked, throat silent.

With an exasperated sigh my hands dropped and I planted myself in front of the bonfire glaring at its base. "Train you." I spat, disgusted in myself, "Rest first." I pulled my knees up and spread my legs. Elbows resting on each knee I let my claws hang over my shins, scowling in the solitude of my hood and mask. Orlai, hidden by the edge of my hood, said nothing. iI heard her push off the wall and walk over. With a quiet exhale of breath she next to me, jade eyes on the flames.

I turned my head, eyeing her questioningly.

"What?" She asked without looking at me. I jerked back to the fire, fixating myself on it. I shifted, crossing my legs and arms. My mind was frozen. After a moment a warm body leaned against me and I looked down at Orlai, who in turn was looking up at me, "Do you mind?" She muttered angrily. I shook my head dumbly. "Good." She grunted with a nod and lowered her face to study the bonfire. We sat together in silence, watching the astral flames spiral slowly.

"Warm."

"What?" Orlai asked, looking back at me,

"You are warm." I murmured. Andre whistled loudly from below and I realized the hammering had stopped. I sat there stiffly, waiting for her to jump up and yell down at him, but instead she tensed for a moment before relaxing after a few seconds.

"Thank you." She whispered. I struggled to contain overflowing joy that flooded my body and tickled me with a smile. After a while her breath slowed with sleep and I carefully extracted myself from her. Putting a bedroll beneath her head I wafted a cloak from my bottomless box over her. Sitting down next to the sleeping Orlai I settled down to keep watch. A fuzzy sensation worked its way into me, one I had never felt before, and my cheeks burned from smiling. This woman, I glanced at Orlai, did so many things to me but I simply could not fathom how. A week we had known each other and traveled together, eons more than any undead I had met. They always conversed with me and left. I'd never spent so long with anyone. Low thuds from the staircase made me turn around. Andre climbed up the stairs, walking around Orlai and I to sit across the Bonfire from me,

"Not often I get company like this," He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb Orlai, "Thought I might enjoy it for now but I'd like ta avoid Milady's temper." I nodded, sighing,

"Yes." Andre regarded me through the fire, eyes growing sad,

"This be a dangerous place for love." My jaw tightened but I didn't answer, clenching my fist. "Why haven't ye told her ye duty?" I twitched, staring at him, "Something to hide?" I remained silent. Andre sighed, eyes dropping to Orlai, "She don't be from around here, I can see that much, and she ain't used to living like us." Eyes softening Andre smiled passionately over the fire at her, "She be quite beautiful. Got quite the fiery temper, and mouth. She's enough to make any man jealous." His eyes darkened as he watched her. I grabbed the handle of my sword,

"Don't," I growled feriociously, "Touch her." Andre watched me with a level gaze.

"I know I couldn't challenge ye for her, and she'd probably tire of watching ol' Andre hammering scrap metal eh?" He sighed, "Doesn't mean I can't hope though eh?"

I stood. "Leave Andre." His eyes met mine and I saw him considering it. "Please." I whispered, partially drawing the sword from its sheath.

He grunted to himself, "Very well." Standing up he grumbled through his beard, "I value me life as much as any undead." He walked around the opposite side that would take him closest to her. I stepped between him and Orlai, Andre walking just past me staring beneath my hood and directly into my eyes.

I saw a burning jealousy consuming him, a blaze of envy that showed no hint of extinguishing. One swing and I would send his head rolling. No one was to be trusted. What would I tell Orlai? I didn't know.

Against my better judgement I let him pass. He turned, walking down the stairs and thudding loudly onto his stool, grumbling quietly. I sighed in relief, sitting down next to Orlai.

She awoke several hours later.

* * *

Orlai opened her eyes, looking up at the hulking figure of the man in black. The light of the Bonfire waxed and waned steadily, casting strange shadows beneath the black hood over his masked face. His breath was slow, eyes closed as if he slept, but she had not seen him sleep ever since she met him.

_She is a diamond. ___

Orlai snuggled deeper into the cloak, she figured he'd given it to her while she slept, and a red hue slowly colored her cheeks as she recalled his words. She hadn't expected him of all people to say something like that. It seemed so ridiculous and out of the blue, especially coming from him, but that by no means annoyed or angered her it just… surprised her. Warmth blossomed in her. She knew what it meant, that she was attracted to him, and he seemed to return the attraction but… he wasn't human. No human was as cold, emotionless, and dead as him. A darkness hung over him, one that both drew Orlai in and repelled her. He was an enigma, one that she found interesting.

"Awake?" He asked suddenly, dead eyes open and watching.

She noticed that same glimmer of light from before, dimly flickering in those black recesses. It seemed brighter now. "Yeah," She stretched with a yawn, "Let's go."

"Good luck Milady!" Andre boomed from below,

"Thanks!" She called back, "Well?" Orlai asked, turning to the man in black, "Let's be off then eh?" He nodded stiffly. Orlai thought she detected a hint of hostility in his eyes but he looked away too quickly, climbing the set of stairs leading to the next level. Orlai followed behind, casting a glance at the stairs leading back down to Andre before hurrying after the man in black. The steady bang of a hammer on metal rang rhythmically behind them.


	7. Training

"Is something wrong?" Orlai inquired, walking briskly to keep up with the man in black,

"No." He growled ferociously. Orlai bit her lip to keep her tongue in check. Despite his gruff attitude and tough exterior, he was surprisingly soft and she needed to learn that. She had to go about this politically,

"Well that doesn't seem entirely true Mr. Grumps." He stopped, head turning away to look out into the leaves of the trees that grew along the raised stone bridge they walked across,

"Sorry." He sighed, shoulders slouching, the man turned to her, "Bad talk." He coughed, "Andre." Orlai frowned,

"What, the jokes? That's why you're all angry?" He shook his head, pausing a moment to look back at the bell tower,

"Andre is a friend." He coughed several more times, hunching over. Orlai put a hand to his back but he gently pushed her away. She pursed her lips,

"Alright, but why are you so grumpy?" He shook his head, motioning for her to follow and resumed his march across the bridge. She sucked her teeth, deciding not to pursue the matter for the moment. They walked for a few minutes and Orlai realized the air didn't smell so strongly of vegetation. After the week marching through the forest it was like she had stepped out of a great fog and high up onto a mountain where the air was crisp, cold, and filled you with life. A smile touched Orlai's lips as she felt the gentle breeze on her face and tug at her long hair, boots on solid stone for once and no longer fearing the rogue root to trip her. She realized she had not asked where he was taking her, but with the man Andre behind them it must be a place full of people who weren't trying to kill them. The stone bridge was extremely well made and she could see several trails of smoke rising above the trees. Finally, Orlai would be able to hear the low roar of voices muttering to one another, a small comfort she had not realized she missed. It amazed her how many different sounds a well populated village could make and she hadn't realized it till she'd walked through the dark and heavy atmosphere of the forest with its disturbing cries in the night. Orlai quickened her step to walk astride the man in black, "So where are we going?" His hood turned slightly and she caught a glimpse of his eyes,

"Undead Parish," He rumbled, "Church." Orlai nodded,

"Will there be more like Andre there?" She asked brightly,

"No," He replied sadly, "Training." Orlai blinked. A ball of uneasiness formed in her stomach threatening to burst. Orlai gritted her teeth and swallowed the emotion, swearing to herself she would face whatever he threw at her with a snarl and a joke, "There," He said with a nod, "Be ready." He reached behind his back, drawing the blue steel greatsword, large gem in its hilt glittering in the sunlight. Rays bouncing off the blade dazzled her. Orlai drew her own meager broadsword, puffing her cheeks out as she compared their weapons, and walked on the balls of her feet. She looked up as trees slowly gave way to a stone structure she recognized as a large church,

"What's in there?" She asked cautiously, hefting her weapon,

"Undead."

"Undead?" Orlai glanced at him, she could see the end of the bridge, "What are undead?"

"They are like me." He rolled his shoulders. Orlai could hear the stomping of running feet on the stone and looked to the end of the bridge, "Madmen." He whispered. Four dilapidated corpses wearing rusted armor and carrying ancient shields filed out from beyond the sides of the bridge brandishing short swords. Their hysterical screams sent chills down Orlai's spine. "Go." Orlai turned to him,

"What?"

"Go." Orlai looked on as the screaming corpses rushed down the bridge at them,

"Me?" The man nodded quickly,

"Training." He said, "Go." She stared. He gestured and added encouragingly, "Together." She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck,

"You're that confident in me?" He nodded briskly, eyeing the soldiers,

"Yes." She sucked her teeth,

"Well screw it then." Yelling at the top of her lungs Orlai charged.

* * *

I watched as the princess, like a bat out of hell, rushed the oncoming undead soldiers and could not help but smile as I ran behind her. It was nice to fight alongside someone for once.

* * *

The first swordsman planted his feet, sheltering behind the ruined shield, and thrust his sword at her midsection. Orlai swung the broadsword with all her might, batting his thrust aside, and shouldered into this shield knocking the undead back. She stumbled, eyes still fixed on her foe, and haphazardly whipped her sword through the air slicing the swordsman's chest open in a burst of red. Shouting triumphantly at her victory, momentum carried Orlai off-balance and crashing into the ground. Rolling to her knees as the lifeless body of her foe fell, her courage surged. She could do this, she could win! Orlai scrambled to her feet and deflected the next swordsman's sword with her own. A disembodied torso of another hollowed undead flew over the head of the one she was currently fighting, greatsword of blue steel slicked with crimson flashing in the sunlight as it sliced through the air and any that dare oppose it. She had been training with the man in black during the journey here after the encounter with the Black Knight for this very moment,

Keep your stance solid yet dynamic, the small of your body turned to the enemy, don't give them a target.

Knight Captain Dio's words echoed in her ears as she bumbled and fumbled, struggling to get around the swordsman's shield. Suddenly he advanced and shield bashed her, Orlai bowling over. She rolled back to her feet, looking up to just barely swat his blade away. He was already swinging his shield. She braced, feet planted firmly, stars flashing she gasped. A blade pierced her stomach, lifting her several inches into the air for a brief instant. She keeled over, knees bruising on the hard stone as she landed. A feint? What had happened? The red glowing eyes of the swordsman glared down at her as she fell to her knees, staring at the blade wedged in her stomach, blood and bodily fluids pouring from the wound. She was frozen with shock. The head of the swordsman landed on the ground to her left and its body collapsed, dilapidated hand releasing the sword still lodged in her. The man in black crouched down and she looked up at him unable to speak. His soulless eyes looked over her, the pity in them evident,

"It hurts," She whimpered, "It hurts," Tears streamed down her cheeks as she weakly grasped the blade, crying out as it moved within her body. She withdrew her hands and clenched them into fists. She didn't want to die. It hurt, her stomach hurt, she didn't want to die. Her vision flickered, color beginning to fade from the world. The man in black held up a thick piece of leather,

"Open." He growled, pushing it against her bared teeth. She obediently disengaged her jaw and he briskly shoved the leather between her teeth, pulling out the white wrapping of cloth, "Bite." She did so and he yanked the sword from her stomach, frozen air rushing in to fill the gap before blood gushed from the wound. She bit deeply into the leather and a muffled scream tore from her throat. Touching the white wrapping to his forehead the man whispered words she could not hear, too focused on the agonizing pain that ripped her open. A holy light glowed, circle of golden runes forming around her, and the pain vanished with the circle. Orlai gasped, leather in her mouth falling to the stones of the bridge. Her body went limp, cold sweat pouring down her face and soaking into her armor. The man in black hooked an arm under her legs, the other around her back, and lifted her off the ground. He marched back to the bell tower, holding her to his chest. She looked past his arm at the bodies of the swordsmen, six in total. She had not seen the other two appear. Her eyes slid closed as she let herself be spirited away,

"That hurt." She wheezed, "You could have," She swallowed, throat dry as a desert, "You could have said you could do that." He didn't respond, "I got one, did you see?" Nothing, "Hello?" The man in black stopped. Orlai cracked her eyes open to see him looking down at her from beneath his cowl, hollow eyes smoldering with black fury,

"I was afraid." His voice was little more than a whisper,

"Well," Orlai chuckled faintly, "Danger and fear are one and the same aren't they?" He looked away, hood hiding his face,

"We will try again." He murmured and Orlai grinned.

"Damn right." Her eyes slid shut, darkness closing in.


	8. Beautiful

I sat next to a massive gate, the entrance to an unforgiving and terrible place of pain that I did not want to recall. Sen's Fortress was one of the few places I honestly hated. I could not help chuckling at the irony of taking refuge in such a place rather than the bonfire a hundred feet or so away. I did not want to be near Andre for the moment.

Orlai was perfectly fine aside from the ragged breathing, cold sweats, and near-death experience she'd been forced through. She'd fallen into a soft sleep for the moment. I had removed her armor, instead leaving only the rough leather pants and fur tunic to allow her what I hoped was a more restful nap. I chided myself for putting her through such an ordeal but quickly reconsidered. It was likely better she live through such an event now rather than later. Death was always a close companion in this world and to accept that meant one understood the cost of living in Lordran. With a tired sigh I pulled the black cloth over my face down, breathing in the raw air deeply, letting it fill me with its crisp bite and fresh taste. I exhaled, expecting dust to expunge itself from my mouth and nostrils in copious amounts. I did this several times, enjoying the privacy while I could before wrapping the cloth back around. No memories surfaced as to why I hid my face, in fact I could not remember the last time I'd seen my face, though I knew it was crucial to keep it hidden especially in the presence of Orlai. It was the face of an undead. I recalled the dilapidated skulls of the swordsmen from earlier, imagining Orlai's reaction to my own face. Best to avoid that.

I bounced my greaves off the large slab of stone I sat on, looking over at Orlai lying lengthwise next to me. An odd energy began to build within me along with a slowly increasing sense of anxiety. I thought to put a name to the phenomenon, recalling words Orlai had used to describe me. Boredom, I was bored. How odd it was. I had always been marching, always moving, never stopping, yet here I sat solid as a stone knowing I would not move unless certain circumstances were met. Things had become so new, vivid and vibrant ever since Orlai appeared, she showed me so many things, taught me endless skills and spoke to me with a familiarity I did not even posses with myself. I could not imagine losing her. My mood darkened, I would not lose her nor would I even consider it.

I felt a dark existence crawl through the cracks of reality, breaking through time and space, something unwelcomed and unwanted broke into my world.

An invasion.

I shook Orlai awake roughly, drawing my sword and shield. I could hear the high-pitched moan of a portal in the distance, "Wake up," I hissed urgently, "Wake up!" I had forgotten the greatest threat in this world, the Dark Spirits, ghosts of red smoke that assaulted the keepers of undead worlds hungering for their souls. I myself had stooped to their level once and felt no malice towards those that attacked me in the past but now things were different. Orlai snorted loudly as she woke,

"What?! What, what is it, what?!" She blurted looking around densely,

"Hide," I growled, "You must hide." Orlai shook her head, not seeing any immediate threats,

"It's fine, there's no-" I seized her, glaring into her jade eyes,

"Hide." I snarled. She nodded slowly,

"Alright, if you say so." I pressed a silver coin into her hand,

"Break." I nodded to the coin, Orlai raising an eyebrow,

"Wh-"

"BREAK!" I roared, covering my mouth instantly, eyes wide with shock. What an intense emotion, I felt the need to apologize. Orlai stepped back with a perplexed expression,

"Ok, damn." She muttered. The coin bent easily and she vanished, replaced by a small box,

"Stay." I ordered the box and turned to the bell-tower of Andre's smithy. My breath was strained, muscles tense, if I had a heartbeat it would be hammering. I walked to the center of the walkway, looking behind me into the Fortress, then back again at the bell-tower. Which direction would he come from? I caught a glimpse of red in the bell-tower. Rolling my shoulders, I raised my shield, bracing.

A massive man stepped into the door, raising his arms from his sides and parallel to the ground as if to ask, "Well, what is it?" He wore Giant's Armor and the Mask of the Father, a massive two-handed sword I knew fondly as Zweihander slung over his shoulder, a Giant Dad. The scourge of Dark Spirits, one who had only a single, simple strategy.

To charge headlong into battle, shouldering through whatever punishment was dealt to them, and skewer their enemy. My stomach sank further when I saw the five black spheres that hovered above his head, dark magic. I had never discovered the origins or learned the use of such deadly magics but I had battled against it and found out the hard way how effective it was. Glaring at the Spirit I nearly spat from disgust. I hated magic, such things as arcane bolts or massive spells that could not be dodged or evaded, such things blight upon the art of combat. What point was there in killing your opponent without properly testing your own strength against theirs? To fight with blades and the like filled me with overwhelming joy and ecstasy, the high of battle. I placed my shield upon my back, its usefulness voided by the magic, instead hooking the ivory talisman on my belt for my divine abilities and a few other special surprises. If he wanted to play dirty, we would play dirty.

The Spirit charged and I snatched my talisman, hurling a bolt of lightning down range, my foe easily rolling under the bolt. I felt a pang of irritation. Havel's ring, that Mask, and a hefty amount of endurance were keeping him light on his feet. I put my gauntlets together, white light shining between them, and hurled a sphere of force at him which was also evaded with ease. He was too close to safely cast again. I quickly replaced the talisman on my belt and sprinted headlong into him, watching those black spheres closely.

With a low roar the five spheres suddenly separated into many, pairs of white eyes appearing at the center of each, fixating on me as they closed in. I ducked beneath his blade and dived past, gasping as several of the spheres ate into my side, rest exploding harmlessly against the floor. Coming to my feet I snatched my talisman and it glowed brightly as I channeled the power of the Grave Lord through it, punching into the stone. A forest of blades sprung up around me, knocking him high into the air in a spray of blood. I sneered, quickly taking a swig of my Estus Flask before pushing the advantage. He stood, too slow to react before I slammed Artorias' Greatsword into him with an overhand swing, knocking him off balance and cutting deeply into his armor. I heaved, Artorias' Greatsword slicing up, maintaining his staggered stance and throwing more blood into the air. I gasped for air, arms unable to continue the devastation, and reached for my shield as his blade closed in for vengeance. The great sword collided with the shield in a shower of sparks and with a colossal push I parried the weapon, throwing him backwards arms flailing. I stepped into him, slamming my blade home and twisting, listening to the Spirit gag painfully through his mask as he fell to his knees, form already dissipating. I kicked him off the blade of my sword, swinging it up to rest on my shoulder when the fist of a god slammed into my back with an eruption of pain throwing me to the ground. I gasped, frozen by shock,

"What…?" I managed struggling to push myself to my knees. I turned and found myself staring down the point of a Dragonslayer Greatbow and arrow wielded by a half-naked man in nothing but a loincloth and a top-hat with a laughing mask hiding his face. So there were two Invaders. The arrow shredded my armor and punched through my chest, leaving a gaping hole, ricocheting off the floor to skid across the room. I stared up at this second Spirit unable to breathe or move, all of my strength concentrated on just staying up as he knocked the third arrow, that damn mask laughing at my helplessness. I closed my eyes praying Orlai stayed hidden,

"GET OFF HIM YOU BASTARD!" My eyes flew open and I watched in awe as a box, in a puff of smoke, became a screaming Orlai, her broadsword poised to strike. She impaled the half-naked man from behind, blood gushing out from the backstab, and he cried out in surprise, top-hat falling to roll dramatically across the stone. Orlai slammed an elbow into the back of his head, yanking the sword out viciously in an arcing trail of blood. The Invader fell to the stone, vanishing. I could not help the smile that crossed my lips. There were two of us too. I fell forward and into the arms of Orlai, "Hey," She cried out, "Hey stay with me!" Panic flashed in her eyes, "Hey!" She grunted as my full weight leaned on her and she struggled to hold me up, "It's just a flesh wound," Orlai growled, "Use your magic! Come on stay with me you bastard, look at me!" Her jade gems glared into my eyes beneath the brim of the hood. Tears brimmed beneath those green gems, "Dammit! Dammit! Don't you dare leave me you ass!" She lowered me to the stone, straining to set me down gently I watched in amusement as the veins in her neck bulged from the effort. She pulled a cloth and several vials from a satchel at her waist, "Since you can't, I'm going to heal you," She stated, "Alright? So keep your eyes on me, stay focused ok? Eyes on me." She ordered, looking directly into my eyes. I shook my head,

"Estus." I coughed blood into the black cloth,

"Stop talking," She leaned over me, hands setting to work and I pushed her away weakly,

"Estus." I whispered unable to give my voice strength,

"Stop." She chided, calmly grabbing my gauntlet and dabbing the wound with her cloth at the same time, "I was an apothecary as well as a mage, I've seen worse." I had trouble believing she'd seen worse from the look in her eyes, "You're going to be fine, it's just a minor puncture wound." She was lying, why was she lying? I knew I had been shot did she think I was a fool? What point was there in telling me I wasn't going to die when I, technically, was? I didn't want to die though, unsure if Orlai would still be present if I did. What if she was gone when I came looking for her? What if something happened? Sure I'd rested at the Bonfire in the bell tower that I could see even from my position on the ground but the possibility existed. My vision was losing color, a pool of blood swelling around my body as I felt my life ebbing. I struggled to move, reaching weakly for my pack and fumbling with the latch, barely managing to flick it open. She reached over me, grabbing my gauntlet, "Stop moving, it'll get worse." I glared up at her, feeble breath catching.

Tears dribbled down the bridge of her nose and she wiped her face on a sleeve, leaving a damp streak of mucus and tears, expression fearless determination. She glared down at me and I saw a heroine who had the strength and will to accomplish anything if she set her mind to it, her eyes assuring me of my safety stout heartedly. I had misjudged this Princess.

"Estus," My voice was deathly quiet and with one last effort I weakly reached into my pack, struggling against the weight of the armor, knocking the Flask onto the stone.

* * *

Orlai glanced at the man in black, he was still whispering about something though she couldn't make out what. Returning to her work she looked down at a mortal wound, his right lung shredded, several arteries severed, all sorts of concussive internal damaged, and his ribcage had been pulverized. Death was a fact but Orlai still worked. She tried to stop the endless bleeding, sew the forever broken wound shut, and ease the agonizing pain she knew tore him apart, all in vain.

So this was it? She was a minor apothecary, working with the old man back in the castle, learning to heal people and cure disease or sickness, but when the time came for it to really matter it was something of this magnitude. Orlai cursed Fate, dubiously tending to the dead man she burned to save. She hiccupped a sarcastic laugh, realizing he was already dead before the wound. His flesh was cold and lifeless but his blood flowed as if pumped by a heartbeat. What was it that kept him alive? What was it that kept him at her side the last few days? What was it that made him tick? What… what could she do?

The sharp ringing of glass on stone made Orlai look up at a bottle filled to the cork with a golden liquid,

"ESTUS!" She shouted, seizing the bottle and ripping out the cork she yanked the cloth over the man's face down, and looked for the first time upon his face.

Skin paper white and decorated with scars, lips pale of color but perfectly sculpted in thin delicate curves, high cheekbones framing his closed eyes with their excellent ridges accented by long thick eyelashes any woman would envy, chin curving gently in a gradual "U" as if crafted by a master sculptor, cheeks sloped delicately in soft grades and neck reminiscent of a thick unbreakable pillar of marble, Orlai could not help staring. This man was beautiful.

Shaking herself, Orlai reached down separating his lips with two fingers and tilted his head forward, pouring the golden liquid into his mouth and closing his solid jaw, gently setting his head down. She stared down at his wound, blood still coloring the stone, for several seconds.

In a bright glow flesh rebuilt itself and skin melted back together, and after a moment the man suddenly gasped jerking bolt upright, hood falling back, eyes wide with shock. She could not tear herself from his pale, colorless face so lovingly crafted from flawless white marble, scratched and scuffed from years of age and neglect, the scraggly mess of short black hair that sat upon his head fluttering in the breeze. He snatched the flask from her, gulping down another two mouthfuls, but the color did not return to his cheeks or bloodless lips. He panted, wiping his mouth, and plucked the cork off the ground, securing it in the flask which he then returned to his pack. The man turned to look at her.

* * *

Orlai stared at me, eyes glittering in a spectrum of colors I had never seen before, glowing with radiant light that warmed my face and eased the aches in my body. I smiled and her eyes widened, shimmering even more brightly. I raised an eyebrow and suddenly spotted the black cloth in her hands. Leaping to my feet I scrabbled for the black hood, pulling it far over my head as terror gripped me. What had she seen? Was I hollowed? What did I look like? I cursed myself for not carrying a mirror on hand at all times. A hand touched my bare cheek. I could not pull away.

Great sun blazing in my chest from the touch of skin softer than silk and hotter than Pyromancy, the hand pulled me gently. Turning my head, I peered into grossly incandescent jade eyes. The Princess stared at me. Those grandiose jade eyes and her tender touch held me stronger than any curse, binding, grapple, or magic. Voices whispered to me as Orlai drew uncomfortably close, her eyes darting about, taking in every detail, blemish, and nuance of the face I'd kept hidden,

"Orlai." I whispered and she blinked,

"SORRY!" She screamed, shoving me back roughly and spinning around, holding out the black cloth, "Here, I'm sorry. I didn't see anything don't worry." I looked away abashedly, Orlai doing the same as color flushed her cheeks, and I snatched the black cloth wrapping it around my head and pulling the black hood overtop. We stood in awkward silence a moment, unable to look at each other,

"Thank you." I coughed. She bobbed her head,

"Yep." She chirped, "Anytime." I looked around nervously, brain working frantically,

"Training?" I asked warily and Orlai marched towards the bell-tower, back stiff,

"Yeah," She forced, "C'mon." I plodded meekly after her.


	9. A Dangerous Place

Rain hammered the roof of the bell-tower drowning out the steady clang of Andre's smithy, a cold draft swirling in from the outside. It had begun raining a short time after the encounter with the Invaders and Orlai did not believe I was fit for adventuring or training, especially in the rain, confining me to Andre's bell-tower. My armor also needed repairs, coming out worse for wear after the Invaders nearly killed me. Orlai demanded I let Andre fix the armor rather than doing it myself to avoid straining my body. She was starting to annoy me with her treatment, as if I was a delicate flower to protect. Ever since she'd seen my face without the protective cloth and hood she had grown much closer to me, uncomfortably so. I enjoyed her companionship but she suddenly became very personal and intimate, a ridiculous change in her typically standoffish attitude.

Trying to stay as far from Andre as possible, not wanting to sour our relationship any further, I sat on the rotten wooden bench on the floor above the Bonfire, black gauntlets and greaves in a neat pile next to me while Andre repaired the chest piece two floors down. I was wrapped in a silk cloak and robes pulled from my bottomless box. I felt naked and vulnerable in the flimsy cloth. My black hood and mask were still wrapped around my face, giving me a slight level of comfort, but unfortunately that small comfort was banished when I remembered I was not the only one using the cloak.

Despite my vocal protests Orlai herself huddled beneath the cloak, cuddling up in my lap. She said it was for warmth even though my lifeless flesh did not need it, only capable of sapping the heat greedily from her. Orlai would not hear any of it, stubbornly snuggling up with me and resting her head upon my icy chest unchallenged.

My head fell back against the cold stone of the wall as her soothing warmth permeated my body. I sighed heavily,

"What?" Orlai asked from below. I didn't respond, "Is something wrong?" Yes, something was wrong, why were you suddenly in my lap? Why were you so personal? What had happened to the spitfire from before that had been replaced by this lamb? I quickly took back the "lamb" statement that was too much, more like a lioness that'd suddenly developed an alarming level of affection for a bear. Hands reached up to seize my head, "Hey," She growled, "Tell me what the problem is, now." Her jade eyes flared in anger, lips curled back in a snarl exposing bared teeth. That was more like it, I thought with a smile. She eyed me suspiciously, tugging at my hood, "Why don't you take this stupid thing off anyway? I've seen your face already." I shook my head, "Why not? Not like you're ugly or anything, besides it gets on my nerves. It's like you're hiding behind that thing." That was why I wore it. Did she think it was some sort of fashion statement? No, it had a purpose like everything else I carried. Except that pile of rubbish, I'd picked up, I didn't know why I carried it around. I felt the strange urge I might need it, as if there was the tiniest of chances a pile of rubbish would actually help somehow,

"I like it." I muttered. What? That was completely beside the point, I wore it beca-

"Well I don't." Orlai grunted, "Take it off." I shook my head,

"No." She raised an eyebrow,

"Really?" I didn't like the way she said that, "Why not, are you afraid of me?" My head nodded and I nearly screamed. Why admit it? Why tell her she made me uncomfortable when she did this? What had she seen in my face that did this to her? Had I been cursed? Did some sort of magic hover over me and bewitch those that saw my face? I felt as if I'd jumped off a cliff with no idea if I could fly, "You are?" She giggled, "You, the man in black, are afraid of me? Preposterous, and you believe this hood and cloth keeps you safe from my wrath?" She brought her face closer smiling playfully, jade eyes petrifying me, "What could possibly make your naïve mind think that?" Her hands pushed my hood back, exposing the upper half of my head. I screamed at my body held captive by her piercing gaze, desperately begging my limbs to move, "Why would you need to fear me?" Her breath, hot and sweet, drifted over me plucking at my hair as her fingers closed around the black cloth shielding my face, "I don't fear you." She chirped. I twitched, black cloth coming away in her hands, "There," She cooed, "I see you."

A maelstrom of emotion roared in my mind, thoughts caught up by violent winds, scattering my senses. What had come over her, why had she suddenly started coming after me like this, what was her motive, was she being manipulated? Was this not Orlai but an evil magician taking advantage of her to kill me?

I couldn't think.

She smelled amazing, like a field of flowers, fiery hair blazing brightly even in the dark and dingy interior of the bell tower, touch of her hands light as snowflakes and softer than clouds, green eyes glistening, she was beautiful. The moment I'd seen her crying out for help in that damp and muddy forest I had changed. For better or worse though? So many new feelings and emotions surged through me, confusing and overwhelming yet amazing and fantastic, as if I ran through a dream. Yet I could not run from the truth that filled me with pain.

_This be a dangerous place for love._

Andre's words echoed through the storm in my mind followed by my own. I did not want to regret this feeling that gripped me when I saw her, screaming as those jade gems turned to dull glass clouded by gray fog, color fading from her vivid features and breath snatched by the skeletal claws of Death. If I lost her….

"Princess." The word fell from my lips and hit her like a stone,

"Yes?" She asked, halting her advance, "What is it?" I held her in a steady grip, the paper-white skin of my rough hands combing through her silky curtains of flame to bring her face nearer to my own. The jade eyes began to close, shimmering brightly as her lips separated ever so slightly. Even in the darkness of the unlit room and faint light from outside shrouded by the thick veil of rain she burned bright and blinding. She was so close I could feel the ice melting in my chest, heart drumming steadily, blood flowing in a constant pulse, life flooding me like the torrential rain that roared outside. Her eyes locked upon mine, lips just a hair's width from my own, hot breath mixing with the frozen air I exhaled. All I needed to do was….

"Stop." I spoke the word as if vomiting. I was not living. The warmth I felt was not my own, beating heart I felt a false hope, emotion in that false hope fragile and easily broken by outside forces, body a lifeless shell kept animated by unseen strings. I was a puppet that danced to an ancient consciousness that'd learned, by trial and error, the lesson that all things could be lost to the cruel mistress of time and the reaper's blade. I turned away, hands dropping to the bench. I knew she'd leave me regardless of whether I wanted it or not. It was better to push her away now than feel an agony worse than any weapon's blow. I was undead, an immortal corpse of ash, and she was a living human, a mortal existence brimming with the fire of life. There was a reason the living sent the undead away to be corralled and contained. I shook my head dejectedly,

"No." Orlai snarled, seizing me roughly, "You stop." The Princess's lips closed around mine, a slimy slug that tasted of sugar forcing its way into my mouth. I slid down the wall, failing for a handhold, thudding to the bench with a loud creak. Orlai's arms closed behind my head, soft form pressing closer than I ever would have dared imagine. Flames roared in my chest scattering the dark regrets and uncertainties that haunted the corners of my mind, an emotion I had once feared pumping my body with life and lifting a great weight I did not realize I carried from my shoulders. She pulled away,

"You need to brush more." She spat to the side, wiping her mouth "That tasted like sewage and it was cold. You're like an icebox." Orlai leaned back down grinning, "But it felt really good." She whispered into my ear, "I forgot how this felt." I reached up, grasping her firmly in my colorless hands,

"I am Undead," I stifled a cough, throat aching. She shook her head chuckling,

"So?" She asked raising an eyebrow and I shrugged in response, "Is that it, or is there more? Should I run to the hills?" I glared, head turning to the side, looking through the curtains of her flaming hair at the stairs almost wishing I saw Andre stomping up the stairs to whistle loudly,

"No." I grunted. Her body dropped gradually to rest upon mine,

"Good," She pulled my face back to her, "enjoy yourself some hm?"

She kissed me several times and I kissed her back a couple and we cuddled. The whole experience was a blur after the initial part. I barely remember anything, aside from her. She was very nice. The hammering had stopped.

With a deadly growl I extracted myself from beneath the Princess, standing up,

"Andre." I glared down at the stairs across from the bench. After a long minute loud stomping shook the floor beneath us for several long seconds before Andre appeared at the top of stairs,

"Ahoy lad, just finished with ye armor here a few seconds ago," He raised my chest piece, "Thought I'd drop it here, ol'Andre doesn't try to bother nobody after all." His eyes flashed approvingly,

"You were," I grunted, "listening."

"You wot?" Andre asked, head cocked to the side in confusion, "Just walked up from me smithy I did, ain't no shenanigans from ol'Andre I assure ye." Orlai laughed musically behind me,

"He's just shy Andre, I'm sorry if our little scene disturbed you." I jerked around to the Princess, spreading my hands in disbelief and pointing at Andre,

"He," I coughed, "He watched!" The Princess shrugged,

"So? Let him." Andre and I stared at her,

"By me beard lad," He rumbled, stroking the luscious bush of white on his chin, "Ye got quite the catch indeed." He waved a hand, walking back down the stairs, "Ol'Andre knows when he be a nuisance, just be quiet about it eh?"

"ANDRE!" I roared after him bending over in a fit of coughing, the Princess cackled, holding our guts we both keeled over,

"Oh, let him joke!" She wiped a tear as I coughed my lungs out, the brightest smile I'd ever seen shining on her face, its light reducing even the beauty of Gwynevere, Princess of Sunlight, to a soft glow in its grand radiance. I shook myself, grumbling, and shrugged off the upper part of my robe wishing to be encased once again by the hard shell of my armor, "Wait!" The Princess cried, and I looked up at her blazing red cheeks as she stared at me through her fingers, "I-I'm still here." She stammered.

Oh.

Stiff with shame I slipped back into the robes carefully picking up the armor and marching downstairs, standing at the final step staring down at my feet. I smashed the rotted wood of the railing with a bare fist, furious embarrassment raging in me.

* * *

Orlai watched the man in black stomp down the stairs with the image of him halfway out of those robes, glossy white skin of his scarred and muscled chest exposed for the entire world to see, firmly fixed in her mind. She cackled again, nearly falling off the bench, unable to believe her circumstances. Thrown from a world she hated into one that terrified her, the last thing she had expected to find in this god-forsaken land called Lordran was him. Hopping off the bench she began re-equipping her armor and buckled the broadsword to her waist. She felt like knocking some heads.

The man in black marched back up the stairs several minutes later, hood pulled over his head, black cloth secured over his face, and body clad in black steel. Orlai grinned at him, urging him along as she hopped out into the downpour. He followed her silently. A new spring in her step, Orlai strode proudly towards the dark shadow of the church unaffected by the rain and carried by the light clouds of bliss that floated in her heart, faithful knight of black steel tromping astride her.

* * *

I watched Orlai practically skip through the rain, dark regret resurfacing in my chest. Her warmth fading, dead flesh returning to its cold and unfeeling state, emotions that once ravaged and seduced me drifted. In the council of my conscience and doubt I wondered, had I made a mistake? This was the right decision wasn't it? I prayed to whatever gods would listen to help me keep her safe. I could not lose her; I would not lose her.

Voices whispered.


	10. Princess

Orlai squinted through the rain at the silhouette of the church, broadsword in hand,

"I don't see any." She said glancing at the man in black,

"Careful." He warned greatsword in hand. With a nod Orlai walked forward, tensing when she heard the hoarse screams of their attackers. Through the veil of the rain materialized a single swordsman, rusted blade directed at her throat. Setting her jaw Orlai ducked and swung, slicing its sword arm off cleanly spraying droplets of blood across her armor. She stepped smoothly into the undead, sliding easily past the shield to jab her broadsword into the center of its collar with a crunch. She quickly removed the blade and back stepped, switching to the next. A short sword cut through the rain like a lightning strike. Orlai hefted her new shield of red and blue decorated with insignia of a dragon spreading its wings, tail wrapped around a silver sword, and blocked. She pushed the rusted blade up and away, staggering the swordsman. He fell the next moment clutching at the broadsword lodged in its torso. She rushed forward, steamrolling the corpse and yanking her sword free, shield catching a bolt that streaked from the large doors of the church, stumbling slightly from the impact on her shield but maintaining the charge. The undead wielding the crossbow reached for its short sword too late, decapitated head falling to stone. Panting Orlai turned around, man in black walking towards her, greatsword resting on his shoulder. Three bodies lay motionless behind him,

"Good." His voice was clearer, less scratchy that it had been before. The last two weeks spent with him had been to teach her how to kill and not be killed, which indirectly helped improve his speaking skills, but to get him to say a full sentence was still nearly impossible and emotes were his primary mode of communication. The rain hadn't let up in the slightest since the first day leaving Orlai a shivering mess soaked inside and out every time they ventured into the Parish and back. Her long hair had become unmanageable, always getting in her eyes and looking like a tornado. She'd gotten tired of combing it only for it become a tangled mess again and again. So, like any sensible warrior, she decided to cut it short. The man had approved when he saw the haircut. Whether it was approval of the practicality or the fashion choice she could not extract from him. He still wore the black hood and cloth to her frustration, refusing to go without both no matter how much she pestered and teased him. She had, however, caught him brushing his teeth a few times with the toothpaste she had made for herself, using a shabby-looking makeshift toothbrush. She'd made one for him to replace the disgusting thing he'd thrown together. In addition, the sweaty aroma that he usually gave off had vanished but she had yet to catch him bathing. Despite her constant vigil he consistently managed to sneak away. Her favorite, however, was teaching him how to cook a rabbit. He didn't eat it, he never ate and declined any food she offered, but it'd been fun having him watch in awe as she turned a rabbit into a stew, going so far as saying it smelled nice.

She wiped her blade on the corpse of the headless swordsman, catching a slight glow from the Estus flask in his pack out of the corner of her eye. He still wouldn't let her touch the astral flames of the Bonfire but had done his best to explain them. Apparently the Bonfires, strange astral flame twixt around a sword jabbed into a pile of ashes, were his "guides." They offered rest and warmth to his frozen body but whenever one rested in their light any enemies previously slain reappeared, except for a small few that the man in black had already defeated. It made no sense but he seemed to accept it. To Orlai the rules of this world were too confusing and strange for real life. She was also getting irritated calling him nothing more than "you" or "man in black" but he never responded to her nicknames for him,

"Good?" She grunted, "Great is more like it. That was my best time yet and I didn't trip on my shield." Orlai winced as she recalled the times she'd been incapacitated and the man in black had been forced to heal her. Once she'd been overwhelmed by four or five undead with broken short swords on the upper level of the church, her armor and flesh shredded into bloody ribbons. The man in black forbid her from going into the Parish for a full day, instead sparring with her using a pair of wooden poles Andre had fashioned for them. The bruises she got from him were almost worse considering he refused to heal them. Another time a stray bolt caught her in the shoulder, which wasn't so bad, but the following strikes from a swordsman were the fatal finisher. After that he'd given her the shield which proved a challenge to wield and properly use to her surprise.

The shield messed with her balance thanks to its bulky weight, simply carrying it another matter entirely. The man in black had marched her back into the forest and back several times to strengthen her stamina and toughen her up. She did pushups every day, sparred, jogged in full equipment, and did whatever else he could think of for her to do rather than sit around. This had gone on non-stop the last two weeks, and the results of the exercises spoke for themselves. She was most proud of the toned muscles and abs she'd developed, her originally slim figure still as curvy and sensual as before but now a hard bastion of strength and beauty rather than a brittle work of art. Orlai had tried several times to entice the man in black into letting her showcase these features, in turn discovering his, though after their little rendezvous he carefully distanced himself from her. Not terribly, he was always at her side unless she told him off or he needed to bathe, but despite her best efforts she hadn't managed to take his lips a second time. That did not discourage her of course, it just irked her that he'd drilled her so thoroughly but couldn't take a damn hint when she winked at him saying she wanted to "rest."

"Just," He cleared his throat, "Just be careful." Orlai rolled her eyes,

"Good god." She groaned sarcastically, shaking her head and smiling, "What are you my dad?" He grunted indifferently, "Look, all I'm saying is you don't need to be on me so much. It's annoying to always have you looking over my shoulder." She raised an arm, pulling at the chainmail and tanned leather to expose her bare arm, "I mean look at these bad boys!" She flexed, muscles bulging. Orlai bounced her eyebrows at the man, grinning expectantly. He shrugged and her shoulders deflated, arms falling to her sides, "But they're huge! I was a stick before and now I'm," She raised her arms, growling for effect, "This!" The armor fit her more snugly than before, carrying her equipment with ease, and she was light as a feather on her feet. Her reward was a flat stare,

"Don't," He raised a finger, "Get cocky." Orlai threw her hands in the air,

"Why can't you ever tell me 'good job' or 'nice' or give me a kiss?" The black cloth crinkled as he opened his mouth to protest but she jabbed a finger at him, "A reward would be nice rather than you just being all Negative Nancy all the time and telling me I'm not good enough!" He sighed heavily, "Don't you," She mimicked his sigh, just with more flam, "me! I'm doing my best here!" He looked at her through the rain, a deep sadness in his eyes that seemed ever-present since he started training her. Orlai bristled, "And what's with that look?! You look like a mopey little puppy that just lost its favorite bone!" He walked past her into the shelter of the church. She exhaled, knuckling her forehead, and stomped after him.

Inside the church were two columns of seats before a large altar, the statue of a beautiful woman wrapped in white robes cradling a small baby atop it. The man in black shook the rain off, Orlai doing the same and scrubbing a hand roughly through her short hair in a vain effort to dry it. He walked down the aisle to a door at the back readying his sword. He looked back at her expectantly, "I'm coming dammit!" She hissed quietly to avoid alerting the occupants of the church and jogged after him, armor jingling. Stopping next to him at the door they both peered at the three Balder knights inside, all looking the opposite direction. The man nudged her,

"You lead." He whispered and she raised an eyebrow,

"You sure 'dad?'" She said slyly and he growled in response, "Take a joke." She chuckled, "I'll get the one closest on the left, you take the one on the right, doesn't matter who fights the third. Sound good?" He smiled behind the mask,

"I love a leader." Catching her off guard Orlai looked up at him in surprise and he rushed past her, slamming his sword into the closest knight, "Too slow!" He yelled,

"Bastard!" She shouted with a grin, assaulting one of the two remaining Balder Knights. It turned, raising its shield, and she slammed into the knight at full force, throwing it to the ground with her shield bash. The knight's helmet flew off as it crashed to the ground. She raised a leg and, with a loud grunt, smashed its skull into a gory mess. Orlai looked up as the man in black kicked the other knight off of his blade. Cracking a grin, she sprinted through the door to the courtyard outside, crossbowman and swordsman just beyond, a second swordsman just a short distance beyond. Orlai lopped the two closest foes heads off with a spin. Dexterously maintaining her sprint, she slammed her shield into the jaw of the one remaining swordsman, shattering its skull with a loud crack as her body followed through throwing him to the stone.

She straightened, admiring her handiwork, "How was that?" She gasped as the man in black walked out into the courtyard, third Balder Knight dead behind him, "Not bad right?" Her vision wavered, head feeling light, "Though maybe I," She mumbled, "Pushed it a bit." Falling heavily to her knees she put a gauntlet to her head, steadying herself,

"Cocky." Chuckled the man crouching down in front of her, another damn smile hidden behind that cloth,

"Oh shut up." She growled, head clearing slowly, "I just beat some ass." Placing the shield on her back and cleaning the sword with a cloth before sheathing it Orlai stood shakily. The man in black slipped under her arm and she glared up at him, "This better not end in a lecture." He shook his head as they walked back through the church, him supporting her,

"No," He chuckled, "Sorry." She yelped in surprise as he lifted her up sweeping an arm under her legs, the other wrapping around her back, "I am proud," He rumbled with a small cough, "Of you." She shook her head,

"It takes me performing a superhuman set of moves and nearly passing for you to be proud of me?" She rested her head against his cold chest plate, still wet from the rain, and sighed, "Is it really so hard for you to care?"

"No." He chuckled, looking down at her through the rain from beneath his dripping cowl with soft brown eyes, "Just shy." His eyes were brown. The black pits that once bored into her skull now replaced by a two deep dark brown eyes that shone dully like a pair of polished stones,

"Your eyes are brown." She said. He raised an eyebrow walking into the church and up the aisle of benches, "They were black before." He stopped,

"Different?" He asked cocking his head,

"Yeah, they changed." She pushed against his chest, "Put me down, I'm fine." He let her down, "You've been changing you know," She continued, "You talk more, your eyes aren't so dead it's almost as if you're…" She hesitated, "Almost as if you're alive." Anger flashed across his brown eyes,

"I am undead," He growled, "The dead cannot live." Orlai bit her lip,

"I'm not saying you're alive, just that you're changing." He shrugged, "I'm just saying," She shot back, "Andre won't stop telling me you're a completely different man from the blank slate you once were and I like the new you anyway." He cocked his head,

"New?"

"Yeah," She nodded, "The new you."

"New…" He seemed to roll the word around in his mouth, "I am new?" Orlai nodded slowly,

"Uh, yeah." She held up a fist to the side of his head, knocking against his skull, "Everything ok up there? You're not losing your mind because I called you 'new' am I?" He grabbed her hand,

"No, I am old." He laughed quietly, "Very old." He sat down on one of the benches, elbows resting on his knees. Orlai sat cross legged on the bench in front of him, folding her arms on its back and resting her head atop them,

"How old?" She asked, "Like, thirties?" To her pleasant surprise he pulled the cloth down from his face to smile brightly. Her heart beat a little faster,

"A long time," He coughed with a smile and shrug, "Decades, centuries?" He sat back, thin colorless lips pursed in thought as he studied the ceiling, "A long time." She watched him for a moment having difficulty believing he was an old man, especially when he looked just over twenty-five,

"What do you remember?" She asked. He shrugged, "What does that mean?" He didn't respond, eyeing the ceiling before looking down at her and sitting forward,

"You?"

"Me? What do I remember?" He nodded, "Well I…" She never told him that she'd lied about being a princess, "Well, I'm from a faraway land full of magical wonders and... none of the crazy shit you have here, it's all pretty fantastical and wondrous. Not nearly as dark and depressing as all this," She jerked a thumb at their rainy surroundings and the bodies. He nodded in agreement,

"Very unpleasant."

"You're telling me," She leaned back against the bench behind her, arms spreading out across its top, "Back home there are tons of people, all of them are assholes though." He frowned as she spoke, "There's this castle with a bunch of nobles who are even bigger assholes and they never shut up, always trying to get one-ups on each other in this stupid thing they call 'The Game,' which is basically one big cockfight." He cocked his head in confusion, "Uh," She gestured with her hands, "Let's just say everyone there has a massive ego." He nodded slowly, "Anyway they're all assholes and I-" She stopped. He watched her expectantly,

"Princess?" Now or never,

"I'm not a princess," She looked down at her crossed legs, "I'm actually just a servant apprenticed to the royal court mage, a really old dude who's long past his expiration date. He didn't really teach me anything about magic I was just sort of there out of respect for my mother, a witch, who died with my father in some accident, battle, or whatever. They never liked me anyway and dropped me at the castle before they ran off. I heard a few years later that they were dead." She paused, "But I was born on Friday the 13th in the year 666 at midnight during a full moon and a thunderstorm at the same time the previous king died from an assassin while-" She shook her head, " Look, a lot of stupid things happened at the night of my birth which somehow lined up with a stupid prophecy that said I was a devil child, or something stupid, cursed with the power to destroy the world. I guess the old man finally figured out a strong enough teleportation spell and banished me to this place," She tried to recall his words, "I think he said something about finding someone called 'The Chosen Undead,' whatever that is. This place is full of undead so I'm in the right place I guess. You know I never thought he'd actually, you know, banish me. I never liked any of them I thought the whole kingdom was just a bunch of assholes but I felt like I belonged in a weird way. It's hard to describe really. I had my own room the size of my thumb and it smelled like a broom closet, it kinda was, and-" She jumped as a claw-like gauntlet brushed her cheek. She looked up into the face of the man in black,

"Tears." He said. She realized she was crying,

"Dammit," She growled scrubbing her eyes, "Sorry." Her nose ran and she hiccupped, "Dammit," She wiped her face on her leather sleeves, "I don't know what's wrong, I hate that place. I can't think of any reason I'd shed a single tear for those bastards." He stared at her with those stony brown eyes, "What?" She spat, "Enjoying the show?" He shook his head,

"You are strong," He said encouragingly, "Princess." Straightening and clapping a fist to his chest he bowed his head to her. She laughed,

"You know people can't become royalty just because someone calls them a princess." He looked up at her, head tilted to one side,

"Why?"

"Because they need an estate or ten, subjects, money, respect, a private army, all kinds of things, royal things." He frowned, looking around and humming thoughtfully, "I doubt you'll find any of those here." He turned back to her, stepping over the bench to sit at her side,

"No." He sighed, taking one of her hands, " You are my princess." Orlai grinned, shaking her head,

"Damn you've developed quite the silver tongue." She chuckled. He smiled, glossy white skin a shocking contrast to his black attire. They sat in silence, looking around the church and listening to the rain,

"New Londo." He muttered. Orlai looked back at the man in black, he had pulled the black cloth back over his face to her disappointment, "You are ready." He got to his feet, offering a hand, "Come." Without hesitation she took the gauntlet and the man in black pulled her to her feet,

"Right behind you." She replied.


	11. Rhea

The man in black stepped into a small stone closet with a large raised pad of stone at its center motioning for Orlai to follow,

"Come," He said, pointing at the pad, "Avoid." She raised an eyebrow, stepping carefully around the pad and into the closet next to him. He reached down and, to her shock, wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Realization dawned upon Orlai. A small closet, alone together, in his arms, it could only mean one thing. She blushed, hands on his chest,

"Um," She mumbled, hiding her face in his chest, "Are you sure?" He shifted,

"Yes." Her heart fluttered from the determination in his voice,

"Oh." Voice but a whisper, "It's um," her courage trembled, "It's my first time though."

"I know." He seemed so matter-of-fact about it,

"O-oh, I-um-I guess it was," She coughed, "U-um obvious, you know." Her cheeks were aflame, what was going on? It was odd for him to be so up front, "I didn't really..." She trailed off,

"What?"

"W-well," Orlai stammered, "It's just I," She looked up at him through her bangs, shyly pressing a gauntlet against her lips, "I didn't think you were so bold." She couldn't stop fidgeting, scarcely able to believe he was finally making a move, "It's, um, it's nice." He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her with his deep brown eyes that dragged her into their infinite depth,

"Princess?"

"It's nice, you know, for you to suddenly," She paused, cuddling up against him, "Nothing." They huddled together a moment, "Um," Orlai chirped, "Aren't you going to get me out of this armor?" He didn't respond, "I did get pretty sweaty and now I'm all hot and heavy so it's kind of a problem." His gauntlet closed around her chin, pulling her up to look into those two beautiful brown stones,

"What?" He said clearly, "Do you mean?" She blanked,

"Wait what do you mean?" He shook his head,

"Elevator." She blinked,

"What?" He blinked back, pointing at the floor,

"Elevator." He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, "Lift." What was an elevator, and what did a lift have anything to do with the closet? Was he talking dirty? She had trouble believing he knew more slang than her, unless they had different terms in Lordran, "Not the first." He said with a confused look,

"Who took you first?" She snapped, "Was there a woman before me?"

"Wh-" His eyes narrowed, "What?" He pointed at the floor again, "Elevator." He said slowly,

"Was that her name, Elevator? It sounds stupid." He stared at her, "Come on, spit it out," She pushed him against the wall roughly, "I'm ten times the woman she was." She declared, awkwardly stepping forward and onto the pressure pad,

"Stop!" He yelped, pushing off the wall and hugging her tightly, "Hold on." Her jealously and anger vanished instantly as he held her,

"Oh, um," She was interrupted by a loud clang, "What was that?" She asked, looking around. He straightened,

"Elevator." Suddenly her stomach punched into her throat and gravity vanished as a swarm of butterflies let loose inside her. She screamed, seizing him,

"What happened?!" She yelled, watching the wall fly by,

"El! E! Va! Tor!" He explained loudly over the din of roaring wind and cranking gears,

"No, what happened?!" He massaged his forehead. One of the walls vanished and her breath caught as it revealed a grand vista of clouds and mountains, a massive tree a kilometer or two in height rising above them and out of sight. The rain had stopped, a bright sun shining down. Their descent slowed, vista disappearing behind the wall again, and they stopped at stout doorway. He released her, stepping out. Orlai fell to her knees shaking violently,

"What?" She crawled to the exit, "What?" His head shook at her shamefully, hand on his forehead, setting off a flare of anger in Orlai, "DON'T YOU EVEN! YOU TOOK ME INTO THAT DARK CLOSET AND ACTED ALL SUAVE AND SEXY, HERE I AM THINKING YOU FINALLY GREW A PAIR, WHEN INSTEAD THE FUCKING FLOOR FALLS OUT, WE DROP THROUGH THE AIR ON A MAGIC STONE SLAB, AND BAM I'M HERE!" He raised his hands defensively as she shouted while struggling to her feet, falling on the stone wall to support herself, "You," She jabbed a finger at him, "are an asshole!" His shoulders slouched,

"I-" He began, instead sighing and walking through the exit down a set of stairs. She stumbled after him, sliding along the stone wall,

"Hey! Hey get back here!" She shouted after him, "I said-" She rounded the corner, words dying in her throat. The man in black stood with a woman wearing the hood and robes of a priestess, both of them looking over at her,

"Greetings," The woman bowed her head, "I am Rhea of Thorolund. It is a pleasure. I heard you on your way down," She giggled, "Are you alright?" Orlai looked between the two of them,

"You know him?" Orlai asked blankly, "You know him well?"

"Yes," She said smiling fondly at the man in black, "He rescued me in the Tomb of Giants and took me here, insisting it was much safer here in Firelink rather than the church." Orlai's eyes narrowed,

"He spoke to you?" Orlai asked darkly,

"Yes." Rhea turned to the man in black with a quizzical expression. He shrugged, "It was only a few words here and there over a very long and personal journey, but yes." Orlai glared at him,

"So what's she to you Mr. Hero, the girl for other your arm?" The man in black cocked his head in confusion,

"Other arm?" He asked,

"Goodness!" Rhea raised a hand to her mouth, cheeks red, "He and I?" Her eyes slid past Orlai, "No! Heavens no! He would never!" Orlai didn't buy a word of it,

"Listen sweetheart," Orlai snarled, stomping up to Rhea and seizing the front of her robe, "I may not have seen him first but-" A black gauntlet grabbed her wrist,

"Stop." The word felt like a whip cracking across her back. Orlai's head jerked up at the man in black, his brown eyes smoldering down at her in quiet anger. Her jaw tightened, fists clenching,

"Fine." She spat, releasing Rhea and storming out. Spotting a Bonfire, she threw herself down before it, growling viciously.

* * *

I sighed, shaking my head,

"What a demon." Rhea whispered in a hurt tone, "You travel with her?" I nodded,

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well," I coughed, watching Orlai practically fall in front of the bonfire, "She is my Princess." Rhea's head shot up,

"Your what?" She asked quickly. I looked down, a dark smolder in her eyes,

"My Princess." Her eyes narrowed. The shadow of her hood almost made her look sinister,

"Do you love her?" She asked slowly. I stiffened, not responding. She turned away from me, hood hiding her face as she watched Orlai, "Why?" I did not answer. Rhea shifted, hood twitching slightly, still studying Orlai at the Bonfire. Rhea stepped closer to me,

"What if I happened to join you two?" She turned to me face bright and smiling again,

"Why?" Her expression hardened,

"To pay you back for rescuing me from those terrible pits." She seemed honest, fists clenched in determination and eyes fixed on mine, but it felt wrong. A strange chord struck in my chest as she gazed up at me, one that filled me with unease and discomfort. Why hadn't she asked to tag along before I left her here? Why had none of the people I ever met in this land asked to join me? Instead they left me to my own devices to later encounter me upon their travels when we would chat, and then go our separate ways. Yet suddenly she had asked? There seemed no reason to decline her offer, the miracles she could conjure would be useful, but I still couldn't shake the unease,

"I will ask Orlai." I walked down the steps to Orlai, pondering the idea of two women following me around,

"No," I turned on the steps looking back at Rhea, "You won't." I frowned, leaning down to look beneath her hood. An invisible wall slammed into me and I flew through the air, crashing against a stone wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me. Coughing I looked up at her, "If I cannot have you." She hissed, slowly descending the stairs and raising a cruel dagger, "No one will." I reached for my great sword and she threw a sphere of white that hammered me against the wall again. I collapsed to the ground, vision flickering and body numb. She pulled the cloth over my face down, pressing the knife to my throat, "You are mine," She sneered, "Forever and always." She pressed her cold lips to my own, knife piercing my skin, other hand clutching the same ivory talisman I carried,

"BITCH!" A gauntlet seized Rhea by the neck and lifting her into the air, knife falling from her hands Rhea clawed at the gauntlet's crushing grip. Orlai hurled Rhea across the grass, cracking her head loudly against the stone stairs as she landed. Drawing her broadsword Orlai loomed over Rhea, who held her bleeding head whimpering. Orlai reached down, grabbing Rhea by the hair dragged her, screaming in pain, to her knees. I watched Orlai draw the broadsword back, eyes fixed on Rhea's neck. I tried to yell, lungs empty, the sword fell, Rhea screaming, eyes wide with terror.

Silence.

A headless body fell to the grass, "Bitch." Orlai spat, throwing Rhea's head to the side as she walked over to me. I picked myself up but she shoved me back down, "So what was that?" Orlai was still holding her sword, eyes glaring down at me, "Sounded like you just turned that crazy bitch down at she couldn't take it? You two have a history?" Anger rumbled in my chest,

"Get off." I ordered,

"Not until you answer me." She grunted, nodding down at me expectantly, "Start explaining."

"I said," Rage building, "Get. Off."

"No." I grabbed her one leg planted to the ground and ripped it out from under her. She hit the ground hard, grunting in surprise as I jumped on top of her, knocking her sword from her hand and pinning her to the ground,

"Why?" I hissed angrily while holding her down, "Why kill her?"

"WHY NOT?!" Orlai roared in disbelief, "She tried to kill you, unless you hadn't noticed, and she almost did!" She struggled against me, "Let me go you bastard, don't make me regret I didn't let her kill you!"

"Why kill her?" I hissed again. She growled and grunted as she strained to escape out from under me, "Orlai," I snarled, "Why?" Orlai stopped struggling suddenly, tears dribbling down her cheeks, "Why? Why did you kill her?" They flowed like waterfalls, but her expression was calm,

"Stop," She grumbled, looking away from me, "A man doesn't cry." I blinked. Cold water dripped down my cheeks, vision watery, pouring down onto her in a flood. What? Why was I crying and why was I so angry at her? She was right, Rhea had tried to kill me and would've succeeded if not for Orlai, so why was I so angry at her? What cause did I have to hate her for saving my life? I released Orlai's hands, removing the cloth over my face to wipe her face of my tears. Before I could react she seized my head, pulling me down to kiss me deeply. I melted into her arms, letting go of my anger and sorrow I pressed myself against her, returning the kiss and wrapping my arms around her. We lay there together for a time. She pushed at me,

"You're heavy." She grunted and I rolled off of her, lying on my back in the grass watching the white clouds drift overhead. A sigh tore from my throat,

"Sorry." I said,

"It's fine." She answered. We looked up at the clouds. I sat up with a grunt looking back at Rhea's headless corpse. Orlai hadn't shown any mercy. That was good, mercy could get you killed. Standing I looked down at Orlai, who looked up at me, and I smiled. I smiled as brightly as I could. She was all I needed and I could live as long as she lived with me. I told myself this several times. Clearing my throat, I walked over to the headless corpse and slung it over my shoulder, picking up the head along the way, and walking over to the well dropped the body and head into the darkness. I listened as they bounced off the stones and crashed to the dry bottom. Reaching a hand into my pack I pulled out the lump of rubbish, staring at it, and dropped it after the body. The wind blew my hood down, black cloth still clutched in my gauntlet. I closed my eyes feeling the wind on my face.

Turning away from the well I found Orlai standing just behind me, eyes locked with my own, and I smiled again,

"I have something to show you."


	12. Chosen Undead

"Show me something?" Orlai asked. Dark flecks floated in his brown eyes, like vultures circling a dying animal. He had cried for this Rhea woman, why? She tried to kill him. Something must have happened between them, something that made even him, a stone of a man, cry at her death. The thought made Orlai jealous. He nodded, pulling up his hood and wrapping the cloth around his face, walking past her and up a different level of stairs into a large ruined structure that looked somewhat similar to the church they'd left. She hesitated when she saw what was inside,

"I am pleased to see you well." It said in the voice of an old man. The man in black nodded back in greeting,

"Hello Frampt." He said to a creature that filled Orlai with dread. A long serpent like neck stretched from a gaping hole in the ground, bulbous eyes of orange and black, a lipless mouth of ugly teeth, and two hanging pieces of flesh in the disturbing likeness of facial hair beneath a crooked nose, skin ash gray. It was as if a snake had tried to mimic a human's face, producing this abomination of nature, worst parts its overwhelming stench and how it constantly ground its teeth together in sickening clacks. Orlai shivered,

"My, it seems you have finally decided to use that tongue of yours." Frampt mused, teeth clicking, "Who is this companion you have brought?" Its orange and black eyes fixed on Orlai and she winced uncomfortably, its gaze a slime that slowly covered her skin. She would need to bathe later, "She carries a strange scent."

"Orlai." Said the man, raising a hand to her,

"Orlai." Frampt croaked, Orlai's skin crawled hearing it speak her name, "Quaint." It looked down at the man, "What is it you need of me, Chosen Undead?" Orlai stared at it, no longer paying attention to its repulsive nature,

"What did you say?" She asked, Frampt turning to her, "Did you say Chosen Undead?"

"Indeed," It croaked, "This Undead has rung the Bell of Awakening and is fated to succeed the Great Lord Gwyn, Keeper of the Flame." The man looked at her curiously,

"He's the Chosen Undead?" She repeated, "Let's just clarify here. You just called him Chosen Undead?"

"Do I not speak clearly? He is the Chosen Undead." Frampt stated proudly, "I am never wrong." Orlai looked down at the man in black,

"Frampt," She strained, "I'm borrowing him a second." She calmly walked over to the man in black, reached beneath into his hood and grabbed his ear, yanking him after her as she marched back to the Bonfire. He yelped in pain, hands flailing about,

"Chosen Undead. I remain here, and await thee." Frampt called, Orlai waving a dismissive hand,

"Yeah, yeah we'll be right back." She sat him in front of the Bonfire, hands on her hips, "So you're the Chosen Undead?" Chosen rubbed his ear, glaring up at her silently. Lips pursed Orlai looked down her nose at him, "Don't you back sass me this is a pretty important detail considering you're the one I've been looking for this whole damn time to take back with me!" He shrugged indifferently. Orlai leaned forward, "I think it's time we talked."

She sat cross-legged across from him and he looked the other way, arms crossed and shoulders hunched. She growled at him, "What are you five?" She hit him upside the head, "Act your damn age." She spat and he recoiled with a hurt look in his eyes, "Will you just talk to me?" He turned around to sit with his back to her. Orlai's veins bulged in rage. She swallowed the emotion in a thick lump, shaking her head. She had to do this politically. She took out a mirror she'd fashioned from some broken glass, straightening her hair with a comb and rubbing a glossy ointment on her lips. Removing her chest plate and unbuttoning her shirt to a seductive level she nodded into the mirror with satisfaction. Rolling her shoulders and shaking her hands preemptively, Orlai stepped towards him, arms out to envelope him from behind,

"Fine," He said, turning back around. She froze in mid-step and he leaned back in surprise. Looking up at her his eyebrows slowly rose beneath his hood and they stared at each other for several seconds. Orlai sat down deliberately, coughing into a fist,

"Alright then, let's get started." She began and he nodded, "So what do you remember?"

"Nothing." Orlai rolled her head around a few times before responding,

"Ok," She said, voice strained, "Tell me about yourself."

"I am very old." He stated. Orlai waited,

"…and?" She rolled her hand around, "There's more right?"

"I am Undead." She dragged a hand down her face,

"Yes, the Chosen Undead, why are you the Chosen Undead?" He frowned behind his mask,

"I do not know." She opened her mouth, taking a breath to shout, "I have always lit the flame." He continued, "Succeeded Gwyn many times." Words echoed in her mind,

Retrieve him, and end the false world he inherits.

"Wait," She interrupted, "You've already done this?"

"A very long time." He answered. Her anger dissipated. Dark hole forming in her chest she held a hand up,

"How long?" She pressed, "You said centuries before, how many time have you done this?"

"Many," He answered tiredly, "Too many." Orlai swallowed nervously, a terrifying thought dawning on her,

"Have you… met me before in your other cycles?" He shook his head, to her relief, but the possibility still existed. What if she was already caught in the unending cycle and didn't know it? What if she had been doing this as long as he? The thought was maddening,

"Princess?" She looked up into his concerned eyes,

"It's nothing," Orlai snapped, "What do you have to do now to succeed Gwyn?"

"Kill the Four Kings. Kill Gravelord Nito. Use Lordvessel. Kill Gwyn."

"Ok, but if we continue the pattern that'd just reset everything wouldn't it? Is there anything outside this world or some way we can talk to someone?" He shrugged. Orlai sucked her teeth, "Thanks. What's this Lordvessel thing?" He stood, walking back to Frampt,

"Come."

"Welcome Chosen Undead, is it something urgent?" Frampt greeted them at their return. The man in black shook his head, standing at the edge of the black hole and extending a gauntlet to Orlai,

"Here," He said, pointing down the hole with his other gauntlet. She walked up next to him,

"The hole?" He nodded, grabbing her arm and pulling at her,

"Come." Orlai eyed him suspiciously,

"To do what?" He swept her off her feet and into his arms, "Wait!" She cried as he swung a foot over the hole, "You can't be serious!" She screamed as they fell.

* * *

I held Orlai tight as we fell, her screams deafening and grip vice-like. It would've taken too long to explain anything, much faster to just show her. I saw a light below us that quickly grew, and we fell into a large room that looked like the interior to an ancient temple. I could not recall its name. White flecks of ash materialized below us, cushioning our fall and allowing me land lightly on the solid stone. Orlai's eyes shot murder at me,

"Explanation long." I said, setting her down. She opened her mouth to start screaming at me when she noticed the room,

"What," Orlai looked around in awe, mouth agape, "What is this place?"

"A big room."

"I can see that you ass," She snarled, "I mean what is it? What's it called?" I hummed thoughtfully,

"Firelink Shrine is above." I grunted, "No idea."

"Shocking." She snorted, walking up the stairs to a large metal bowl set on a meaty tree stump, "Is this it?" I followed her,

"Yes."

"Didn't you say you already had two souls?" I nodded, "Put them in I want to see what happens." I reached into my bottomless box and procured two souls that burned furiously, lighting the room with their flames, "Whoa." Orlai whispered, staring at them in wonder. I knelt, offering them to the Lordvessel. They vanished in a puff of embers lighting the astral flames, swelling as they spiraled slowly, "Amazing." I glanced at Orlai, sparkling eyes wide in awe. I couldn't help but smile, this was much more fun with an audience, "Now what?" She asked as I stood,

"Kill the others." I said. Orlai hummed, thoughtfully massaging her chin,

"Yeah, but that's what you've always done. Can you remember things you did differently?" I frowned thoughtfully. I could remember every trap, every enemy, every path, and every creature along the way, so long as it dealt with Linking the Flame, but outside that I remembered little. But I did not reply to her yet, I had to think.

I sat down, mind working furiously to remember something outside the ring, something not crucial to the cycle. I hit a wall of fog, the same wall I always found when I tried to think. I did not give in this time, however, I knew Orlai would hit me if I just shrugged again, so I pushed at the fog. To my surprise it gave easily, that was different. I gasped as memories exploded into my mind, clamoring to speak with me.

I remembered a dragon in a forest of gigantic tree trunks on a beach of ash surrounded by an ocean of black, a beast with a lion's head and angel's wings that breathed lightning and guarded a talking mushroom, a maze of roots and ladders inside the trunk of a large tree filled with bug-eye beasts of black, a painted world with the child banished from the world.

_Priscilla._

"Hm?" I opened my eyes and looked down at Orlai lounging in my lap, "Did you say something?" She asked looking up at me. "You've been sitting here for a while and just muttered something." I shook my head, closing my eyes and refocusing. A painted world, something had seemed important about that, a name had resurfaced in my ancient mind. I thought harder, struggling.

_Priscilla._

My eyes shot open and I spun, looking around. Orlai was asleep next to the flames of the Lordvessel wrapped in a cloak. I put a hand to my head,

_Priscilla._

I had not spoken that name verbally or mentally someone had told it to me, the only other person nearby the sleeping Orlai. I felt eyes from the dark, cold sweat beading on my forehead,

"Show yourself." I growled, "I know you are here." Firelink Altar. That was the name of this place. Why did I remember now?

_"Chosen Undead."_ I tensed, grasping Artorias' Greatsword, _"There is no need for that my son. Blades, no matter how divine, cannot touch me."_ The shadows grew darker and longer, light of the Lordvessel dimming, _"And nor can they touch you, for that matter."_ This voice felt familiar, dangerous. I knelt over Orlai, shielding her from the dark with my body,

"Stay away." I growled. Dark laughter echoed in my mind,

_"Fool, you do not know what you and she are. How ironic this is, the Son of Darkness protecting the Daughter of Fire."_ I tensed, _"Kill her, and bring a new age upon us."_

"Who are you?" I demanded. The Dark did not answer, as if pondering something,

_"One you owe much to, Chosen Undead, but now is not the time. The Game must end, Gods growing impatient. Kill her. The Dark must rise again."_ I drew Artorias' Greatsword,

"She is mine." I sneered, "Mine!" The Darkness closed in, pressing down upon me as I sheltered in the light of the Lordvessel,

_"How will you ferry her to safety before her death then, my son? How will you rescue her from your own madness? Better to die by your hand than the lucky kiss of another's sword."_

"Priscilla." The name fell from my lips without my knowledge or consent, as if another had spoken. The voice snarled,

_"Priscilla will never assist the Chosen Undead, kill the Child of Fire and end this lark!"_

The light grew again. I let go of a breath I didn't realized I was holding, exhaling loudly. I looked down at the woman beneath me. She did not belong in this world, so what had put her here? What deity had placed her beneath the Chosen Undead's watch? What was my role in this? I growled at the thought that I was but a pawn in some grand scheme of the gods. I put a hand to Orlai's shoulder, "Wake up." I grunted. Orlai opened her eyes, stretching after a moment,

"Welcome back to the living," She yawned, "You sat there for hours." She frowned, sitting up, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"We must move." I reached out to the astral flames of the Lordvessel, a hand on Orlai, and grasped the essence of the flame pulling us through space and time. Lights flashed past us for an instant and we reappeared in Firelink Shrine,

"What?" Orlai managed to get out, stunned,

"Warp." I said quickly, standing up and walking towards Frampt, "Come." I urged to her, walking up the stairs,

"Wait dammit!" Orlai shouted, "Where are we going?" She hurried after me, snatching her armor off the ground,

"The Undead Asylum."


	13. I am Proud

I grabbed Orlai's hand, pulling her up into the tree,

"Alright," She sighed, patting herself off, "Now what?" I walked along the branches to a large nest of twigs and climbed in, "Is this a bird's nest?" I nodded, "It's giant." I glanced at her,

"Big nest, big bird." She shrugged, climbing in after me,

"I'm just saying." Orlai looked over the edge, wind blowing her short hair, "It's beautiful up here." You're beautiful. I punched myself, shaking my head. She turned to me, "So why are we up here?" I sat down and curled up into a ball among two other eggs, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Acting." She raised an eyebrow,

"You're a theatre major now?" I glared flatly at her,

"No, curl up and sit still."

"This is what we're doing?" She laughed, sitting next to me, "I got excited when you were suddenly a man on a mission, at least it seemed like you were, talking about this Undead Asylum place and whatnot," She tucked her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, "Here I thought we'd finally be setting off on an adventure. Instead we're sitting in a nest." I didn't respond, waiting patiently. She watched me silently, "So is this all it is?"

"Quiet."

"I'm just asking."

"Yes, quiet." I closed my eyes, listening to the wind. I could hear distant thumps, slowly growing closer, and braced myself,

"So are we just going to sit here or what?" I waited, "Hey," Orlai growled, "Stop ignoring me." She would be noticing the thumps soon, "Dammit will yo-" She cut off. I didn't have to look to know she was listening, "Is tha-" something closed tightly around me, dragging me up against Orlai, who cried out,

"Hush." I hissed as The Raven roughly lifted us out of the nest and carried us over the clouds. Orlai's face was smushed against my arm in an expression of pure terror,

"Me and heights," She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, "Are not the best of friends." I settled in for the flight.

A short time later The Raven dropped us on the cliff of the Undead Asylum in a heap. I extracted myself from Orlai and massaged my stiff neck. Stretching I watched the raven fly off while Orlai lay groaning on the ground,

"We're not going back on that bird right?" She held one of her arms, "My everything is sore, my arm fell asleep, and I think I'm gonna vomit." I reached down, pulling her up,

"Come." She clamored to her feet, shaking herself for a moment before turning to me,

"Alright, what's the plan then?" She asked, looking at the Asylum, "Jump into a gigantic worm's mouth then have it carry us into the mountain?" A large, fairly ominous, complex of solid stone set within the mountain sat before us, its exterior crumbling in some places. I walked down the path beneath ruined arches to the massive pair of doors at its entrance,

"Be on guard," I grunted, eyeing the doors. She scoffed,

"Really? I thought we'd go in naked, all natural and all that." She drew her broad sword and shield, "So you don't know what to expect?"

"No," I shook my head, "My memories are… missing in some cases. This is one of them." She raised an eyebrow,

"Those were a lot of words at one time, you ok?"

"Yes."

"Impressive." Reaching the entrance we both looked up at the closed doors, "Should we knock?" Orlai grinned, nudging me. Putting a gauntlet on both doors I pushed. With a low rumble they ground open before me and I dropped my arms, exhaling. I drew my sword and shield, looking around at the interior. Inside was a large room wrecked from the battle that had first raged here in my original escape against the Asylum Demon. Broken pots and smashed pillars lay about the place,

"Damn, what happened here?" Orlai asked stepping up next to me, "Looks like there was a hell of a party." I nodded,

"An escape." She glanced at me,

"How can you tell?"

"It was mine." She frowned,

"You were a loony?" I cocked an eyebrow at her, "Yeah I dunno why I even asked, I already knew." She stepped forward, "It's awful qui-" A soon as her boot hit the floor the stone caved with a great crash that shook the whole building. She fell through the hole, landing heavily among the rubble, and looked up at the looming form of the Stray Demon. She raised her sword and shield, stepping back nervously,

"ORLAI!" I roared, jumping at the Demon's head I guffawed as it impaled me on its spear in mid-air and slammed me into the ground. Why had I felt the need to yell?

* * *

Orlai watched in horror as the massive Demon skewered Chosen and hammered him into the ground, dislodging its spear from his body to turn back to her. She stared at him lying motionless in a pile of refuse which Orlai realized was not refuse at all but piles of human bones. They littered the floor in abundance, all of them picked clean of flesh and blood.

The Demon raised its spear, red eyes fixed on Orlai.

She dived, spear burying itself in the wall in an explosion of shattered bones and stone. Orlai tumbled through the bones struggling to find a foothold, spitting out several finger bones, and looked again at the man in black, still motionless. Terror shook her body and numbed her senses, she couldn't do this alone, she co-

The Demon hit her with the wooden pole of the spear. Flying into the air and bashing against the wall Orlai gasped as the wind left her lungs. She sucked air through clenched teeth, landing on her knees, holding her stomach, unable to breathe as the Demon raised its spear again.

_I am proud._

Her jaw clenched.

Gritting her teeth Orlai climbed to her feet, side-stepping the oncoming spear and raising her sword. Plowing through the bone piles she slid beneath the Demon, slashing at one of its legs. It roared in pain and she hopped to her feet, carving its rear with her initials. The Demon spun, and she rolled out of the path of the spear, stabbing the Demon in the stomach when she came up. The spearhead smashed into the ground behind her and she raised her sword for another swing when a blast of force slammed into her. She ricocheted off the Demon, spiraling through the air, crashing back down to the ground. She screamed as she landed, right leg snapping in half, bloody bone poking through her flesh and armor. The Demon raised its spear and impaled her from behind, lifting her into the air. Orlai screamed in agony.

A lightning bolt drilled into the Demon's head and it dropped its spear, Orlai dislodging from the weapon. She landed in the man in black's arms, the ivory talisman already out. A bright circle of divine light washed the pain from her body and healed her wounds. He let her down, nodding respectfully to her, and charged the Demon. Orlai exhaled, body trembling, she punched herself to stop the shaking and followed after. The Demon recovered, spear in hand, and swung at the man in black. He rolled under the swing delivering two colossal swings from his great sword before jumping back, Orlai rushing past him,

"NO!" He shouted too late. Orlai sliced at the Demon as its spear crashed down next to her again. She slowly turned her head to see its surface glow. Red energy scorched her body and she was hurled like a ragdoll, skipping off the ground and plowing through the bones. Skidding to a stop she laid motionless, body numb of all sensation. The ground shook with the battle she could not see, head buried in bones. She wondered how the man in black thought of her performance so far. It was her first time after all, she coughed painfully, and surely she wasn't doing too terribly? Her vision darkened, the numbness beginning to subside. Her face burned as a wet liquid pooled around her head, ribs broken glass, there was so much blood. Why was there so much blood? It hurt to breath. Her consciousness faded.

* * *

Orlai wasn't moving.

I dived, a blast of red energy incinerating a pile of bones behind me, and cleaved the Demon's leg open. It roared angrily, swiping several times. I dodged each swing, landing two hits. The Demon was on its last legs, covered in its own blood and gore, and I pressed harder with one eye fixed on Orlai's motionless body. I sliced its rear open and severed one of its legs before it landed another hit on me. Its spear whistled through the air, blade poised to slice me in two. I turned, putting my shield between myself and the cruel spearhead. It hit me like a landslide and I flipped end-over-end bouncing off the ground, regaining control of myself with a roll. I snatched my talisman, summoning a bolt, and put it squarely between the Demon's eyes, head exploding in a shower of gore. Without missing a beat I threw my sword and shield down, sprinting to Orlai. The Demon's headless body crashed to the floor and faded away to ash.

Her armor shredded, limbs all bent the wrong ways, bones poking out of her skin, blood everywhere, I didn't waste time checking for a pulse. Touching the talisman to my head I whispered the incantation, her body snapping and popping back together. Still she was motionless. I tore my gauntlets off and pulled her up to me, fumbling at her neck. I fell back into the bones with relief, holding her close. She was alive.

I started breathing again, pressing my lips to her forehead.

Thank the gods.


End file.
